


House of Broken Souls

by anniespinkhouse



Series: House of Broken Souls [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: AU, Alcoholism, M/M, Mental Illness, Mystery, Promiscuity, Prostitution, architect!Jared, detective!Jensen, disabled Jensen, mild D/s themes, multi-chapter, sexually explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-28
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-06 04:12:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 45
Words: 100,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/414561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anniespinkhouse/pseuds/anniespinkhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ex- detective Jensen moves to a new city, to escape the nightmare of his recent past. His new apartment has an assortment of neighbors, including his landlord, Jared Padalecki and immediate next door neighbor, Caitlin. Jared is good looking, wealthy and successful, but he's keeping dark secrets. Caitlin bakes a lot and hides. She's also, by her own admission, batshit crazy, but is she is dangerous as local detective Misha Collins believes?<br/>For J2 it's lust at first sight but it's not going to be easy. Jared has issues with commitment and Jensen just has issues,including his ex-partner Chad Michael Murray trying to pull him back onto the case that devastated his life.<br/>When their past collides can they make a new future for themselves?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This was my very first fic, of any sort. My grammar was rusty and it was unbetaed - I haven't gone back to correct it. The mix of real names, CW names, combined names and original characters is intentional.
> 
> I owe a lot of writing partnerships and friendships to this fic. So I am fond of it. 
> 
> Disclaimer: This is fiction, pure fantasy folks. The events aren't real and I am not associated with any of the characters or real places mentioned within the text. I don't make any money from it. It includes a mental health storyline. I am not qualified in mental health, it is all googled, there will be inaccuracies - this is fantasy folks.

 

**  
**

** PROLOGUE **

 

“ _Times have changed_

_for the better_

_You like to say_

_Nice house in the country_

_Now you're on your way_

_You took advantage of your possibilities_

_Got your sights set far_

_No time for sympathy_

_Keeping up with the Jones's_

_Smiling at the neighbors_

_Don't let them see your..._

_Dirty, Dirty Little Secret_

_Keep your hands over your eyes and_

_Maybe it will go away”_

 

**_-Queensryche – Dirty Lil Secret._ **

**  
**

**Winter 2001**

The car is sleek and expensive, out of place by this dingy alley with its burnt out dumpsters and debris that speaks of drug addictions and cheap thrills.

The boy flicks his gaze upwards and surveys the car. His bright hazel eyes seem older than his painfully thin, rangy frame. The windows are tinted, no hint of its occupant. He’s not nearest, but he senses hesitation in the others. Everything about this unexpected John screams, ‘ _unsafe_ ’. He steps forward into the glowing orange of the streetlamp and pauses, waiting for someone to object. As far as he has fallen, as many compromises as he has made, he will not make a deal to share these earnings and he’s not prepared to ruffle any pimp’s feathers.

The car stops entirely now, a window rolls down a fraction, and a voice speaks.

“Hey! Kiddo! Yes you. How old are you?”

“Old enough. If you’re lookin’ for a child you’ll have to move on.” He purses his lips, sulky and defiant.

“Not looking for trouble. You’ll do. Get in, kid.”

The door opens and it’s hard to see into the shadows within. The boy looks briefly at the nearest street-worker, he doesn’t know him, has spoken maybe once or twice. The other hooker is looking him in the eyes and shaking his head in a faint expression of ‘ _No. Don’t!_ ’, but the boy’s stomach is empty, the knees of his torn jeans are muddied, and he stopped feeling his toes hours earlier. His heart is empty and he thinks he’ll end up either dead, or well paid. He figures either outcome is okay. He gets into the car.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Autumn 2010, New Tenant

 

 

**Friday**

 

A lone leaf chased past his pale face. It caught his attention and, for a moment, vivid green eyes followed its path along the empty grey street, past the truck busy with burly men.

Jensen Ackles paid the cab driver, muttered his thanks and included a reasonable tip. There had been no cheery banter or ridiculous small talk, just an efficient, smooth ride from the airport. Jensen figured it was worth a decent tip.

Madison House Mansions. New city, new apartment, new start. 

Three steps then through the leaded glass door. The lobby mimicked the exterior and entrance. Tall, elegant art-deco style with a sweeping, curved staircase to the upper floors. Shiny floor and marble pillars, sparkling glass in the windows and well-placed urns containing evergreen plants. It smelled of wax polish and baking.  It wasn’t ostentatious, there were corners where the plasterwork had seen better days and, if you looked closely, there were slight cracks in the patterned glass. It was a well cared for, clean and quiet, period building. 

The movers were busy stacking boxes into the elevator at the rear of the lobby, so Jensen took hold of the cool, smooth banister and used it to pull himself up. He climbed the stairs slowly, steadying himself with the stick in his left hand. His steps echoed, adding to the general murmur of the movers’ conversation, scraping boxes & the squeak of dollies.

Jensen was wealthy. He could choose a modern home in a trendy area of the City but this apartment was recommended by the pretty blonde realtor with a cheeky smile. She told him this was her first month in the job, that this was the “most gorgeous” building on her books, and that it had the “nicest” residents. Her bouncy enthusiasm convinced him to take a look. 

His own impression of the apartment was that it was peaceful and homey. He had pulled strings with old colleagues to chat to the local cops. Crime was no less prevalent here than in the rest of the City, but the crime here tended to be petty. He had a good feeling about the place, had signed the contracts in short time. Pretty blonde realtor had organized everything smoothly for him. He remembered the wide eyed ‘O’ expression on the realtor’s face when she had taken him for a celebratory coffee, and the awkwardness when she had suggested meeting up for a date. He had gently told he was flattered but she wasn’t really his type. In fact no woman was really his type.

Jensen stopped halfway up the flight of stairs. His back ached and there were pains in his knee. He wondered whether he should have waited for the elevator to be cleared. Sighing, he continued upward. His apartment was on the second floor. 

 ***

Jared had told Caitlin that he would be at a site meeting when Mr. Ackles was due to arrive. He had asked her to keep the elevator available and hand the keys over. It was the first time he’d requested this sort of favor and now he was nervous. He hadn’t met Ackles. The realtor had assured Jared that Jensen Ackles was a nice guy, quiet, respectful and with excellent references, but she also implied that he was handsome and a bit of a flirt. Jared didn’t want Ackles to flirt with Caitlin.

The meeting was dragging on and Jared Padalecki, Architect, was only half listening while doodling on the side of his notes. His shiny brown hair fell forward over his face, hiding the hint of impatience in his clear hazel eyes. His long legs were cramped under the makeshift conference table. Jared stretched them briefly, but his head snapped upwards as he felt his steel toe-capped boots meet resistance, and heard Steve, the Safety Officer, swear quietly, “Ouch. Jesus! Padalecki! Do we have to play footsie?”

Jared shifted uneasily in the uncomfortable chair and muttered an apology. The Site Manager, who was chairing the meeting noted his discomfort and glancing at his watch called the meeting to a brief halt.

“Has anyone got questions for Mr. Padalecki?”

The only reply was from the bricklayers' foreman, “We just need confirmation on that load-bearing wall.”

Jared gave the site manager a grateful glance. “Then I’ll leave everything with you guys and head on over, take a look at that wall. You can email the minutes to me. Call if you need anything.” With that, the architect uncurled his 6’4” frame, rolled up his drawings, snapped a band noisily around them, and walked out of the room with a grace that belied his large size.

***

Caitlin waited until she heard the mover's truck roar throatily down the street. There were faint noises as Mr. Ackles started the task of arranging his belongings. She couldn’t hear anyone else. She stepped cautiously from the cupboard she was hiding in, checked that the lobby was clear, and bolted for the elevator.

Closing the door of the apartment adjacent to Jensen’s, Caitlin breathed out in relief. She made for her kitchen. She would bake. It comforted her to bake and Jared liked when she baked. 

Caitlin was worried what Jay might say if he realized she hadn’t handed the keys directly to Mr. Ackles. She had waited for the truck to arrive, then unlocked the apartment door, leaving the keys, in an envelope, on the fireplace. She had unlocked the main lobby doors but hadn’t made it to the elevator when the first of the removal workers had entered. Caitlin had ducked into the storage cupboard and watched them through a crack in the doorway. According to her clock, that had been 5 hours ago.

Caitlin thought that the question of the keys would probably not be asked if Jared didn’t have immediate opportunity. Jared was always busy, and tended to forget things, given a little time. She re-opened her apartment door and carefully moved her yucca plant to the right.

***

 


	3. Fresh Start

 

Monday

 

Jared was woken at 6.00 by the over-enthusiastic and rather disgusting tongue of his dog Sadie as she licked his ears in an effort to get her’s and Harley’s dishes filled.  Jared saw to the dogs, walked them, and then worked out. He had a home gym which he used daily. He showered, made and ate eggs on toast with sweet latte coffee, cleared away and by 9.00 was switching on his computer and printer, checking emails and pulling up CAD drawings for all his current projects. He talked to his dogs throughout. Sometimes, it occurred to him that maybe it was because he was lonely, but he pushed that to the back of his mind. In the first instance he had no time for a relationship, and in the second he was apparently crap at them anyway.

Jared missed his brother; even the insane schizophrenic ramblings that had made Jared reach to phone the clinic or dash into the bathroom to check that Jeff had taken his meds. He thought he would take the dogs for a long walk at lunch time. He would visit Jeff’s grave, to tell him all the news and remember some of the ridiculous pranks they had pulled together. First, he would go up to the second floor and check that all was well.

Jared walked easily up the stairs taking two in each stride, turned into the hallway and surveyed the two adjacent doorways.

It was a three story building. Jared’s apartment was on the first floor behind the lobby. There were two apartments on each of the upper floors. The second floor was currently occupied by Jensen Ackles, who apparently worked in publishing, and by Caitlin Doe, affectionately referred to as Crazy Caitlin by some of her co residents, but never by Jared. The third floor was occupied by JD Morgan, a divorcee City Banker with a sharp sense of humor and a money-grabbing ex-wife. In the apartment next to JD lived the volatile but wonderful, mother and daughter combination of Ellen and Jo Harvelle, who owned and ran the adjacent coffee shop. They served a mean caramel latte, often accompanied by mouthwatering cakes baked by Caitlin.

It was quiet on the second floor. Jared tipped his head trying to discern any noise. The smell of baking and coffee filled the air, so he guessed Jensen was in. Caitlin only drank tea. The Yucca was positioned to the right of Caitlin's door. For a moment that concerned Jared, but then he noticed a foil-covered plate on the ledge beside Ackles’ door. The word ‘welcome’ was printed in Caitlin’s neat handwriting, on the attached post-it note. Jared lifted a corner of the foil, revealing still-warm cookies. He grinned and sneaked one out, took a crumbling bite, then replaced the cover. He ate the rest of the cookie as he returned to his apartment to start his work in earnest.

***

Jensen woke briefly to the unfamiliar noises of morning in a new building. There were faint clicks of the heating system, quiet murmurs of people leaving their apartments, the elevator whirring and the main lobby door thumping. It was 7.30am. He rubbed his hand through his short bed-mussed hair, fidgeted a little, then closed bleary green eyes and went back to sleep.

 Jensen woke again at 9.00 to the insistent ring of his mobile and fumbled to answer it.

“Ma.”

“Yes. It’s fine. No, I’ve not met anyone yet. Yes, I like it here. You know I _really don’t want to know._ You can tell everyone I’m fine.”

He turned his legs to the side and sat on the edge of his bed. Rubbing his hands over his face and into his hair Jensen tried to keep frustration out of his voice.

“Mama. No! What would there be to chat about? I’m over it. About time everyone else was too.”

Jensen was always amazed at how his mother managed to make him feel like a 5 year old even at the age of 32. He tried for a tactical change of subject.

“Hey y’know I downloaded a couple of transcripts before I came, so I’ll be able to proofread them for you between unpacking. The wi-fi should be fixed up real soon. I'll be back to a normal workload in no time.”

A couple of moments into a conversation on the latest Ackles Corporation book releases and Jensen had successfully distracted his mother.

Jensen had grown up as heir to one of the largest publishing houses in the U.S. and had been expected to follow the family tradition. He had also grown up with a passion for reading, and crime drama had been his favorite. At the age of eighteen he proudly wore a police uniform, and at the age of twenty three he was prouder to be carrying a detective badge instead.

At twenty seven Jensen had married the love of his life, Tom Welling and there had been a wild stag night, and a police guard of honor. 

Oh yeah. It had been a great success. When Jensen was thirty one there had been another guard of honor as they laid Tom to rest. Jensen had watched from a wheelchair, and a killer had taunted him for his ineptitude.

Jensen filled the coffee pot while chatting. When his mother finally hung up, he sank onto a breakfast stool, poured and consumed his drink in four quick gulps. He took a shower and dressed, then spent an hour unpacking his work items and arranging them on the desk that was placed for an excellent view of the street and sidewalk. Jensen fired up his laptop and poured a whiskey. He downed it in one and then made another mug of coffee. This time he sipped leisurely, while he stared from his window.

Life passed below him as he worked. A mother walking hand in hand with her toddler, stopped to wipe the child’s nose. An elderly lady trundled a full shopping trolley behind her. A young couple jogged, oblivious to the world in their iPOD haze. Then, Jensen’s breath hitched just a little as he noticed a tall, athletic man with windswept brown hair, walking two nondescript and unruly hounds. The man was laughing and remonstrating with the dogs, and bending to tickle their ears. His smile was full and genuine, his head tipped back, and white teeth in a wide open grin, and, Jensen squinted, _were those dimples_? Jensen thought whoever he was, at that moment, he was perfectly beautiful. The moment passed, and Jensen immersed himself in his work.

***

 

Caitlin came-to, from drug induced sleep at around 7.00 a.m. There was grey fuzzy edge to the blackness as she awoke. There seemed to be an awareness of someone else in the corner of her mind and her pillow was soaked in the saltiness of tears. She thought she might have been dreaming. A bizarre, unfocussed image of a huge flat screen TV flashed briefly through her thoughts which amused her because her own TV was tiny.

It wasn’t an unusual awakening. She wondered for a moment if Emma or Jane had been there, but she didn’t feel anger and her confusion was minimal. There was no headache, and her apartment was clean and tidy. 

The dark eyed, and petite brunette made herself some Assam tea and wrote in her diary. She showered, brushed her teeth, then flicked through her recipe file on the stainless-steel kitchen surface. Today she would bake cookies for her new neighbor, read a little of her new romance novel and continue to avoid Jared. She wouldn’t watch television; the idea of it gave her the creeps. She wondered about it for a moment, then grabbed her diary and wrote a brief note about it.


	4. Onlooker

**Tuesday Morning**

_Even before Jensen opens his eyes he registers the searing pain in his chest. His shoulders ache and he can't move his arms for the rope biting into the flesh of his wrists. He feels the rough dirt floor, cold beneath him. There is pressure on his knees and the stench of sweat and acrid breath._  

_As he adjusts to consciousness Jensen hears soft sobbing from somewhere close by._

_“Tom!!” he shouts but his voice is muffled. He tastes vile oily fabric in his mouth._  

  _Rough hands pull Jensen into a sitting position and his eyes fly open. Jensen tries to see his captor but nothing will focus. Just a blur is visible, a mere streak of color._  

 _“Sonofabitch!” The word is lost but the sentiment is clear. Jensen feels a sharp pain as the blur connects a fist to his cheek._  

_“You speak when I say boy.”_

_Jensen nods, struggling to control his urge to fight. He understands the predicament they are in. He has to let his training kick in. Has to find a way to defuse the situation or slow it down until back up arrives._

_“De-tec-tive Ackles. Y’ husband don’t seem to know the rules of this here game. Ya gonna help me with that?”_

_Jensen feels the pressure on his knee increase, the tread of a heavy boot imprinting on his skin. He starts to sweat but he refuses to look up, can’t bear to see what his carelessness has done to Tom, doesn’t want to see the hurt and despair in Tom’s eyes. He knows exactly what this bastard does for kicks._  

 _“I want you to choose Mr. Ackles-Welling. Are you going to be a hero? ”_  

_The voice becomes quieter, more sinister as their captor, leans toward Tom, idly shuffling a pack of cards in one hand. “ D’ya think its trick or treat time?”_

_“You or her”_

_Jensen closes his eyes and prays that Tom has listened, those times when he gossiped about this case, knowing that Tom would never break a confidence. ‘Choose her. There is no her. Choose her. There is no her.’ Jensen repeats it in his mind, like a mantra._

_Tom moans but no words form._

_“Choose!”_

_Jensen feels the pressure on his knee abate as a booted foot is lifted, hanging menacingly above it._

_“HER!! HER! I choose her,” Tom spits the words out, his voice thin and shaking._

_“Ag’in Tom. So we’re clear. Ya should know I hate to lose. Y ‘understand I don’ wanna to lose this game don’cha?“_

_“HER!!”_

_Jensen has no time to brace before a booted foot slams his kneecap to the floor. He hears the sickening crunch of bone, feels a shattering hot pain. He has the presence of mind to turn to one side, slumping forward as the vomit surges across his throat, soaking into the makeshift gag and dribbling down his chin._

Jensen startled awake, shaking, soaked in sweat and crying, on the floor. He grabbed the bucket from beneath the bed and spewed into it.

In his mind Jensen heard the gravelly voice taunting Tom. _“Aw and it was treat time too. I bin watchin’ y’ long enough to know you like to give head Tom. Suck it like the tastiest lollipop in the shop don’cha? That’s right, ain’t it **De-tec-tive** Ackles?”_ The picture was clear in his head. _The bastard had paused, looked downwards, then continued, “S’Pity. Ain’t real sure SHE likes it. We ain’t never seen her do it. Hey-ho things do change”_

Jensen rolled to one side and glanced at his clock. It was 6.00. He groaned and reached about for his stick. Holding onto the side of the bed and balancing with his stick he struggled to his feet. With bucket in one hand and stick in the other he made it to the bathroom. Leaning against the wall he turned the shower to its hottest setting and put the seat down. At least in the shower he could pretend those weren’t tears coursing down his face.

At 7 a.m. Jensen was dressed and at somewhat of a loss for what to do next. He glanced out of the living room window. A pale, purple edged morning greeted him. It was dry with a bluster in the air and a can skittered noisily along the gutter. It was a good morning to take a short walk. He was sure his physiotherapist would agree.

Closing his door gently, Jensen stepped into the hallway. He considered his neighbor's doorway briefly. It was the fourth day that he had been living here, and he had yet to encounter a single resident. He suspected that the cookies and cakes left by his door originated from this neighbor, but although he had knocked several times he could never elicit a reply. He had written a short note saying, “Thanks they’re delicious” and left it, with the empty plates, on the ledge where he had found them.

Jensen considered the elevator, then, thinking of his doctor’s advice he turned toward the stairs. He took a second glance at the plants scattered about the hallway and scratched his head. In the four days he had been here, he was sure those plants had moved position at least three times.

The hallway curved gracefully then opened out to the landing of the elegant staircase. Jensen paused to appreciate the sight of pale sunlight illuminating the gentle colors of a slim, stained glass panel stretching the full height of the building. As he did so, Jensen noticed a gentle humming in the lobby below him.

The cleaner was petite, yet curvy, with thick, mid length brunette hair, falling loose to cover her face. She wore jeans and a V-neck tee that was partially hidden by the practical cotton overall. If she noticed Jensen, she showed no signs of it. She was polishing the door handles with incredible concentration and Jensen struggled for a word to describe it, maybe _affection._ She continued methodically around the lobby and Jensen found himself staring, mesmerized by her. There was a beautiful antique sofa in the landing alcove, and he found himself sitting on it, still watching. His detective mind assessed her routinely and he knew that the way she was absorbed wasn’t normal. Deaf he wondered? But she reacted to the sound of the polish lid rolling behind her. He noted the way her body was tensed, almost fearful, her gaze was held low. She was closed off, looked easily startled and he was grateful now he hadn’t descended the staircase and disturbed her. Autistic he mused?  

“Caitlin! Caitlin!” The voice startled Jensen from his reverie. The cleaner jumped slightly and turned toward the rear of the lobby. 

“Oh. Hey.” Her reply was friendly but her hands curled into tight fists, balling up tensely, and her eyes were wide open.

I'll put the kettle on. Even found a teapot. Got time for a chat?” It wasn’t a question. The voice was male, low and calm with a hint of command and a trace of Texas drawl. ‘Sexy’ was the unbidden thought that flashed across the ex -detective’s mind. 

Jensen tried shifting his position to get a glance of the owner of the voice but couldn’t without revealing his own presence. Somehow he felt wrong, somewhat voyeuristic about the way he had watched the woman.

She fidgeted a little, looked up from beneath her hair toward the source of the man’s voice. “Ah… Conversation?” she asked quietly.

“Mmhmm, you know, _talk, discussion_. You’ve been avoiding me, so the sooner you get your ass in here,” the man paused here and giggled (yes Jensen did hear that), “the warmer the tea will be when you drink it.”

Shucking off her overall, the woman walked across the lobby. Jensen heard the soft thunk of doors that led to the downstairs apartment. _Not autistic_ he concluded.

****

Jared had observed Caitlin while she cleaned. Dammit! _Still,_ with the _cleaning_. He guessed where this conversation would go. He had cancelled his appointments and booked a taxi but he wasn’t about to let her know that. He would let her make her own decisions.

Jared felt like crying. There had been no improvement. He had no idea why Dr. Carver had ever thought this would succeed. His failure had put his own brother in an early grave and god knows what could happen when this misguided piece of philanthropy, or _whatever it was,_ came derailed. He knew he should tell the doctor he was finished, it was over. Then he had looked at Caitlin, and he’d known he couldn’t do that.

The cup was warm. Jared thought that it looked faintly ridiculous cradled in his too-large hands, but he drank from it anyway. Before speaking, he forced himself to keep his tone light.

“So, you’ve got a session with the doc today right? You know you gotta keep it?”

“Uh huh,” she nodded.

“So, have you got your diary up to date?”

“I don’t see the point,” she said, almost sulkily, but Jared could sense the undercurrent of frustration, “I don’t do anything. I bake, I clean, I read, I sleep. You should take the appointment; it would be far more interesting.”

Jared’s wide mouth curled up into an almost-smile, “You can tell him how you were the first to meet our new resident.”

“Well. About that …”

He listened to her explanation, rolling his eyes a little.

“So, you mean to say that nobody has said hi to this guy in like four days. Man, this dude is going to think we are such anti-social assholes.”

Caitlin flicked her eyes downward and Jared caught the motion swiftly, chucking two fingers under her chin and looking into her face, hazel eyes meeting deep brown eyes.

“Hey. It’s me that’s the asshole. I should’ve called in or at least asked Ellen or JD.”

“We’ll fix it later. Right now, I’ve got a taxi booked for you. Dr. Carver thinks it’s about time you did some of the traveling for these sessions”

The brown eyes filled with tears and her hands started to tremble. “I c can’t” 

“Caitlin. You can. Till you get used to it I can come with you. Would that be OK?”

“Y yes but I can’t,” her voice trailed off. “How do I pay for this, any of this? Why are you doing this for me?”

“You can pay me in cakes and I suppose just because I can.” Jared smiled gently at her.

“I could clean your apartment for you.”

Jared assumed a look of mock horror. “Jeez, Caitie. You think I’m gonna let your OCD ass alphabetize my kitchen cupboards. You’re already wearing the plaster thin in my lobby.”

Jared inwardly winced; the comment was probably going too far, so he was surprised at her rejoinder, “Oh come on Jay! Don’t blame me for crumbling plaster that’s so damn old it contains horsehair. I wouldn’t be surprised if all got anthrax,” and she laughed.

And then they looked at each other in shocked silence, for a long moment.

“Caitlin?” It was a loaded question.

“Yeah. It’s Caitlin. I’m Caitlin,” she spoke softly, her pupils wide as she digested what she had just said.

“How do you know that stuff? “

“I don’t know. It just came out. I just do.” Her brow creased in confusion.

“S’okay. I guess you’ve something to say to the doc after all.”

“Jared”

“Yeah”

“I don’t think I like television. I was wondering if you could take mine away.”

“Sure, Caitie.”

Maybe he was getting somewhere after all.

“And Jay, I’d really appreciate if you came with me today. Tell them I haven't murdered anybody this week."

Was that humor? Jared didn’t know whether to be pleased or terrified.  ****


	5. Crossed Wires

**Tuesday afternoon**

 

At 3 p.m. Jensen decided to finish work for the day. He looked idly out of the window and stretched as his laptop logged off.

 

Across the street a cab pulled into the curb, spilling its passenger. Jensen noted the ridiculously long legs as perfect man/hound-walker emerged. He appraised him again, staring from his hidden vantage point. Unconsciously, Jensen’s tongue wet the bottom of his mouth and top teeth chewed on his bottom lip. It looked like hound-walker lived locally. The ex-detective decided it was about time he explored the area more thoroughly.

 

The laptop screen went blank and Jensen clicked it down. Hound-walker reached back into the cab offering his hand to a second person. The woman who took his hand was hard to discern under layers of hooded coat & scarf. She scrabbled out to the sidewalk, stumbling slightly. Hound-walker caught her reflexively, pulling her back into his chest with his arm around her waist. She leaned into him and he bent his head to speak in her ear. It was an intimate gesture and Jensen felt like he had received a blow to his gut. Hound-walker was not only straight but taken.

 

God! Ackles. Get a grip.

 

He was behaving like a school kid with a crush. He had to get out more.

 

Jensen jumped as the door intercom buzzed. He reached for his stick with his left hand, pulled his desk drawer out and picked up the pistol that was nestling there with his right. Checking the clip, he slid it back together and held it slightly behind him. He approached his front door keeping to the side of the hallway, back to the wall.

 

The man at the door was tall and muscular. His dark hair and smartly trimmed beard were peppered with silver. His eyes were hazel and a slight smile accentuated his laughter lines. Jensen opened the door warily, keeping his body hidden behind it so the man had to bend his neck to see him. Jensen firmed his grip on the gun and forced a smile. “Hi.”

 

The older man put forward his right hand offering a handshake

 

“Hi. I’m JD. I live at No 4, the apartment above you.”

 

Jensen stared back at him, without a blink.

 

The man shifted and moved his hand slightly, offering it again.

 

Jensen felt like an idiot. Between needing his stick to balance and holding his gun he was stuck at the door unable to shake his neighbor’s hand. He slipped the pistol under his shirt and into the waistband of his trousers, making sure to rearrange the shirt loosely over it. Making a fuss of struggling with the door he gestured to his stick as an easy get-out and regained his composure.

 

“You should come in,” he said opening the door wider and stepping from behind it. “I’m Jensen. Do you want coffee? I have these great cookies.”

 

“Can’t stop.” JD apologized in a gruff voice, “Damn takeover bid at work has got me working all hours. I feel bad that I haven’t stopped in before now but it’s been chaos.” He scratched at his beard. “I’m having a little celebration this Saturday, It would be great if you could come. It’s informal, just a few of us locals and some beers.”

 

“So, what’s the big occasion?” Jensen tried to sound casual, draping himself on the corner of his desk, hiding the shape of the gun from view.

 

“Oh. Uh. That would be the finalization of my divorce and of course, a getting to know you.” His laugh was deep and throaty. “The finalization of my divorce is long awaited and incredibly celebration-worthy. You can get back to me or just turn up. We don’t stand on ceremony here.”

 

JD nodded toward Jensen’s leg. “It’s okay I’ll see myself out.”

 

Jensen’s face colored and his body tensed defensively. “No. I’ll see you out.”

 

JD glanced back as the apartment door closed. He shook his head as he made for the stairs. He was an ex marine and his observation skills were excellent. He wondered who in hell answered their door holding a loaded pistol?

 

Jensen leaned back against the door and shut his eyes. He’d almost pulled a gun on his neighbor. A neighbor! He needed more than a coffee. He made for the cupboard housing his whiskey and poured himself a large shot.

 

The whiskey burned a warm path down Jensen’s throat. It was familiar and comforting. The golden amber was enticing and it was tempting to refill the glass. Jensen knew if he started he wouldn’t stop. He needed to get out of here, find something else to think about. Now! He threw a coat about his shoulders and left his apartment, making for the elevator.

 

***

“So it would really help out if you’d walk the dogs for me at lunchtimes.” Jared smiled encouragingly across the table. He knew he was being obvious. Hell, they’d only left the Doc’s office an hour earlier.

Caitlin made her, now familiar, ‘I may be crazy but I’m not an idiot,’ eyes at the big man opposite her.

“Your mutts are uncontrollable.”

“They love you. They do everything you tell them to. It’s me they act up with.”

“That’s because you join in.”

“Well yeah. It’s fun.” He stuck his tongue out at her. The tension was leaving her shoulders and she was relaxing a little in the familiar surroundings of Harvelle’s Coffee House.

 

“I haven’t a clue where to take them, what to do.”  

 

“We go together for four or five days, work out a route. They don’t go far at lunchtimes. They’re big dogs Caitie. They won’t let anyone near you.”

She sighed. “I’ll try. Keep my seat warm I have to go powder my nose and say hi to Jo & Ellen.”

****

Jensen passed the door of Harvelle’s, then remembered his mission for distraction. He stopped and backed up to examine the menu and take a look at the interior.

The list of coffees was impressive and it seemed cozy and welcoming inside. It was busy, customers generating a low murmur of conversation which could be heard above the soft piped music, but it was the heady aroma of rich coffee and spices which drew Jensen inside.

Jared was slouched with an arm across the top of the diner seat, legs stretched under the table, facing toward the sidewalk when he saw the man with the walking stick. The cane seemed incongruous with the man. He was tall, but not as tall as Jared himself. Well who was? Probably in his late 20s or early 30s and well built in the muscular sense. His hair was short and dirty-golden, his eyes a vivid gold-flecked green. There were freckles across his nose and his mouth was, full, pink and obscenely perfect. Jared caught his breath and prayed that Harvelle’s coffee would entice him inside.

The willowy blonde waitress flicked her hair as she approached Jensen. She flashed a radiant smile and swung her hips. He looked about, trying to identify an empty table but they were all occupied.

“Well hi there, I’m Jo. If you can wait 5 minutes I’ll get you seated. Believe me everything here is worth waiting for.” She leaned forward showing a low cut shirt.

“Joanna Beth Harvelle! Give the gentleman some personal space.” The lady at the counter flicked her dark hair and glared at the younger woman. The young woman pouted sulkily and Jensen was tempted to laugh out loud. He decided not to because both women looked perfectly capable of kicking his ass.

Jared sat up straight as the man with the cane made his way into the coffee house and was accosted by Jo. The view from this new angle demonstrated just how well the guy’s jeans fit, and he let his gaze fall to admire the curve of his ass. He was starting to feel uncomfortably hot as he raised his face to see gold/green eyes, framed with impossibly long lashes’ staring back at him. The perfect pink mouth was twisted into a knowing and suggestive smirk.

 _Shit. Shit. Shit. Busted._  

Well, hell. No guts no glory. Jared dismissed his upper brain functions in favor of the more base instinct pooling at the base of his stomach. Caitlin was safe here with Ellen. His mind slipped into a familiar zone. “Hey Jo. Y’know we’re not using all this space. A man shouldn’t eat alone.” Jared looked up at the freckled face with his best puppy dog eyes, through thick lashes and soft strands of hair. He spoke in a honey-deep growl. “You should join me”

Jensen looked about for hound-walker’s girlfriend but there was no sign of her. The tall guy had not been subtle about checking him out and his expression was openly flirtatious. If he had any thoughts of caution they were scattered to the four winds by the smoldering eyes in that oh so perfect face. He nodded to Jo and slid onto a chair opposite the tall man.

“Dude, you gotta try the caramel latte. Are you having a meal or snack? I mean, man, it’s all good but the rocky road is to die for and if you ask nicely Ellen even keeps candies behind the counter. Yeah. Okay mainly for me but…,” hound-walker finally took a breath. “I’m babbling aren’t I? I do that. Sorry man..... erm I’m Jared by the way.” 

The taller man trailed off, suddenly awkward, a pink flush rising in his cheeks. Jensen thought the enthusiastic chatter and abrupt shyness was incredibly endearing in such a big and muscular man. He was about to introduce himself when Jo returned. Jared launched into his order, making suggestions for Jensen, arguing with himself about the best choices. Jensen’s mouth curled upwards as he let Jared take the lead.

****

Jane’s head felt like it had gone five rounds with Mike Tyson. The single-cubicle rest room was unfamiliar, frankly a little up-market from her usual joint. She had no idea how she’d got there. More importantly she couldn’t remember who she got there with. If anything was going to piss Alec off it would be losing her trick. She rinsed her face in cold water then searched the oddly prim bag for make-up. All she found was a light peach lipstick. She applied it thickly. Jane re-examined herself in the mirror, searching for clues. Her clothes were as conservative as her lipstick. There were no bruises on her face or body so she must have had a good week, turned enough tricks and pleased Alec.

The outfit wasn’t one she would normally wear, even at times when she wasn’t working. She undid her jeans then looked down her top. Her underwear was white cotton and practical so she was guessing her client had a good-girl kink. That fit with the quiet coffee house setting.

Jane’s confusion wasn’t clearing so she figured it was time to be brazen, walk out into the diner and see who she recognized, failing that, work the room and see who claimed her.

Her brown eyes surveyed the room assessing the customers. She may have got lucky. There were four likely candidates, none of whom she recognized. The two tall guys at a central table were gorgeous, unlikely to require services of a cheap whore and into each other anyway. She glanced sideways as the shorter blonde one caught her eye and stared quizzically at her.

Jensen had worked ‘Vice’ long enough to spot a hooker snagging business.

Jane ignored him and sashayed, confident and oozing sexual availability, toward the remaining options. Bald sweaty guy was focused on shoveling as much fried food into his mouth as possible. She brushed him lightly in passing murmuring a low lazy “Hi, sugar.” He grunted, barely acknowledging her but moving his leg away from her.

So that left suit guy with his latte and New York Times.

****

“So how do you want your coffee dude?” Jared was asking but not getting a reply.

Jared swung his head around to see what was distracting his new friend. He hoped it wasn’t another, hotter guy.

“Fuck!” Jensen heard Jared swear.

In one fluid movement Jared propelled himself out of his seat. He crossed the room in three rapid strides, dodging tables and chairs. His eyes scanned tables and surfaces. A cheese knife and sharp cake knife lay idly on the sweet trolley beside single guy in suit and there were steak knives on several occupied tables. He reached into his pocket and fingered the packet of syringes he’d been given earlier. He didn’t want to do that, not here, but he was panicking as suit-guy turned to meet her brown eyes, glowering as she propositioned him. Jared reached for her arm, grabbing just a little too tightly and swinging her about to face him just a little too fast.

She looked blankly at him, then her eyes flickered and he could see fear rising in them. She was spooked, she didn’t know him and she was in a public place with an abundance of knives. He forced himself to think calmly. He focused on being believable, forgetting everything but the task in hand. He leaned into her and breathed hotly on her cheek.

“Hey sweetie! I thought we were all paid up for the afternoon.”

Jane blinked at the huge handsome man before her, wondering how her judgment was so flawed. He reached a large manicured hand toward her and she allowed him to fit it snugly over her own. Looking back at suit-guy Jane gave him a shit-eating grin and a sultry, “Maybe another time Handsome.” She assumed a demure but sexy facade as Jared led her out of Harvelle’s.

“Mmm, so remind me of the plan lover boy,” she undressed him with her eyes.

“Well” he said, growling and sexy “We decided we were going back to your place. We were going to get a little tied up and hot.” He lifted his tone to playful and reassuring.

“Oh.” She giggled, hoping to sound fake-innocent “but I’m such a good girl normally.”

Jensen was stunned. He sat alone trying to process the last 10 minutes. He’d met hound-walker whose name happened to be Jared. He had flirted with Jared and was damn sure Jared had come onto him, _big-time._ They’d started to place their order when Jared had leaped across the room, manhandled a _female_ prostitute, accompanying her from the building, mouthing promises of kinky sex.

 _What the Fuck?_ __


	6. Becoming Emma

**Tuesday afternoon**

 

Jo snapped her mouth shut as she watched Jared rush out of the door with Caitlin.

 

She had been waiting for Jay to order, watching some teenagers at the front of the coffee house argue over girlfriends and internet games. It wasn’t that she was deliberately ignoring Jared and hot-guy, but the big guy always took so long to decide and yeah, possibly she was offended that neither of them were paying attention to her. So when Jay had got up and just left in such a hurry she was somewhat surprised.

 

Hot-guy was still sitting there, staring at the exit.

 

“What the hell did you do to him?” Jo growled with barely concealed anger in her voice.

 

He switched his green eyed gaze to the waitress.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I said WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO YOU, DICK?” Jo snarled.

 

“I..I..” Jensen stammered as he focused on this new development.

 

“Is there a problem here Jo?” the older woman stepped confidently to where Jensen was sat.

 

“No.”

 

“Yes.”

 

They spoke simultaneously.

 

“He upset Jay, Mom. I mean Jay, he just upped and left. He just doesn’t, wouldn’t ever…”

 

“Well, speak then. Did you?” The older woman was talking to Jensen, demanding an answer. He thought she sounded like his mother when she got pissed off.

 

“I have no...”

 

Jensen started to reply but then noticed that this little conflict was drawing attention. He was being given accusatory glares from all directions. He shrunk into himself. Only a year ago he would have coped with this situation with flair and diplomacy. Now all he wanted he was to get away and hide in the safety of his apartment. He hadn’t asked for this, hell it had been Jared who had asked him over. His hand trembled slightly on his stick and his face colored as he got up. He reached in his wallet for cash and slammed notes on the table.

 

“Here. That should cover my costs and Jay-red’s. I didn’t want to eat in a whorehouse anyhow.”

 

Jensen felt ridiculous as he attempted to storm off the premises, leaning on his cane. On other occasions he may have laughed at himself but right now he just felt devastated, belittled and confused.

 

“...and don’t bring your ass back here.” Ellen called after him, swinging a tea towel in her hand.

 

****

 

Jared helped Jane find her key, unlocked the door and went in with her. Her hands reached around his neck and pulled him into her lips. She was soft and hesitant, but he knew she was faking. He allowed himself to be kissed, walking her backwards into the small safe-room, stroking her back with one hand while the other unbuttoned her coat and threw it to the floor. He lifted her arms to strip her of her sweater. Her T shirt was long-sleeved. He groaned. He should have guessed.

 

There was probably some rule about this. Boundaries. He just couldn’t think of a viable alternative. He was going to hell.

 

“You’re such a good girl Jane but I think you wanna do something bad.”

 

“Mmm, yeah. With you I wanna be bad.”

 

“Take off your top.”

 

She hesitated slightly then removed it slowly, teasing him.

 

She gave a nervous giggle as she looked up at the guy for his approval. He was huge, strong. She didn’t want to break up this scenario but it felt wrong. She didn’t recognize anything. This wasn’t her apartment. Her room was small, damp and dark, in the wrong end of town. She’d found the key in her purse which probably meant that this was one of Alec’s little ‘places.’ reserved for his ‘special’ clients and had some very ‘special’ features. She bit down on her lip as it started to tremble.

 

Then he was holding her, gripping her arms gently, bending to look directly into her tear filled eyes.

 

“Jane. It’s OK. It’s me Jared. Is Caitlin there? Can you find Caitlin for me, Hun?”

 

“You, you want someone else?”

 

She was dizzy, losing her grip, Alec was going to be so angry, and there was a sharp pain in her head.

 

Emma came from nowhere, barreling into Jared, flinging her fist into his gut. Jared doubled slightly as she continued her assault. He reached into his pocket grabbing one of the syringes. He held her at bay with one hand, biting the cover off with his mouth. She was screaming obscenities at him as he plunged the needle into the bare upper arm. He grabbed her tight, circling strong arms around her and lifted her bodily, dropping her down onto the cot bed. His eyes watered as her knee connected violently with his crotch but he continued pressing her arms outwards on the bed, pressing gently with his weight, kneeling over her.

 

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

 

“Fuck you! Bastard! I will cut you. Cut your pretty dick off.”

 

“Emma. You know that no-one is going to speak to you if you can’t be polite. I’d like to speak to Caitlin now.”

 

Emma’s right wrist was already fixed to the cot with the soft hospital strap and Jared was struggling with her left hand. Her movements were quieting as the sedative started to take hold.

 

“Caitlin’s a pathetic bitch. I should cut her up too.”

 

Jared snapped his head up, suddenly attentive to Emma’s words.

 

“Cut her up too. As well as who? Emma?”

 

She just sneered.

 

Her kicks were uncoordinated as he fixed her legs to the bed.

 

“Well go on then. Do your worst. You’re a kinky son of a bitch aren’t you? When I get out of this, I _will_ kill you.”

 

Jared released his weight and stood over her. He ran his fingers through his hair and stared down at Emma sadly. He was so tired of all this. He grabbed soft fleecy blankets at the base of the cot and arranged them over her prostrate form.

 

“Not gonna hurt you. Go to sleep Emma. If you decide to be civil, I’ll be here.” Angry eyes sparked at him as Jared padded out of the room. He looked back briefly, his shoulders slumped, eyes dull.

 

Jared blanked out the gently decreasing curses and took a soda from Caitlin’s fridge. He wedged himself on the sofa, put his feet on the coffee table and searched down the side of the cushions for the TV remote control. He’d wait it out. He always did.

 

He’d been his mother’s nursemaid, his father’s punch bag, his brother’s keeper and now this. He didn’t even know what this was. Penance? Punishment? And Jared felt awful, so terribly guilty for feeling like this. She had been his brother’s last wish. A part of his last will and testament, but yeah Jeff had been crazy and it could never have been binding or legal except for the fact that Doctor Carver had given Jared that long hopeful stare with a shrug, and said,“You know you have the experience, capabilities and resources to be a legal guardian for a vulnerable adult. You’re Jeff’s brother, you’ve always coped with him. You and Jeff are the only people I’ve seen her trust and right now, without Jeff, she’s hurting real bad Jay. She can’t stay here forever, we’re not a charity. She’ll be returned to a State Unit and with their approach and her record...”

 

The doc had let it hang there. There had been home checks, risk assessments and references and within a short time Jared had found himself solely responsible for Caitlin. There had been get-outs. He had always been given the option to back out, give up, have Caitlin re-admitted. Even today, Doctor Carver had taken Jared to one side after the session and advised that it had been a rough one. He had warned her guardian of the likely after effects and asked Jared to consider having her committed for a short period. He’d looked at Jared knowingly and asked about his health and personal life. Jared had taken the prepared sedatives from the doctor’s hand, tucked them into his pockets, thanked him and brought Caitlin home.

 

He groaned. He was destined to be single forever. There were some who would find a man with children, sweet and attractive. Trying to explain Caitlin was a lot harder, not that he’d ever got the opportunity to try until today and look how that turned out. The guy had been hot and Jared had let himself believe that just for once, for a short time he might be able to have something for himself. He didn’t expect anyone to stay. Chris had stayed longer than anyone could be expected to and when he left he had been more than direct in pointing out Jared’s flaws.

 

Jared huffed quietly and listened. He heard soft snuffling, she never quite snored. She was asleep. His long fingers perched ready to turn the television on. It was unlikely to be thrilling TV, an episode of Gilmore Girls or Days of our Lives was the usual level of excitement in early evening but it would be company. Later on he would bring Harley and Sadie up, but not yet.

 

Jared never got as far as turning on the TV. He squinted around the room before realizing the screen was covered with a towel. The tall man recalled the day’s conversations. He remembered being asked to remove the TV, but there had been something else too. He picked up his mobile, scrolled through his contacts and dialed the one labeled Steve, Safety Services.

 

“Hey Steve!”

 

“Yeah, how’s it going man?”

 

“I got a query for you. The pre-renovation report you did on my building.”

 

“Uh-huh, Madison Mansions.”

 

“No, no there’s no problems. I guess it’s more personal curiosity on my part.”

 

“You tested the plaster, right. I mean is that common? How many people would know about those hazards in old plaster?”

 

“No. I mean I didn’t till it turned up on the report”

 

“God, No. It’s good. No, no reason to query the results but erm is it you who does that stuff? Is it a safety officer thing?”

 

“You sub-contract it? Oh. Okay. Look man I’m not going to cut you out as middleman or anything but what sort of company does the specialized dust and chemicals work for you?”

 

“No, no. I’m not looking to go into business. I’ve just got this friend who’s interested in that line of work. Thought I’d find out what sort of qualifications they’d need, what opportunities there are.”

 

“Oh man, that’s great AIHA and OSHA are the main certification bodies for this? Can you repeat the website again? Yeah.”

 

“Thanks Steve. I owe you one. We should get out for drinks some time soon.”

 

“No, God. No! I’m not hitting on you. Do you want me to hit on you? ‘Cos if you’re not straight dude, you’d still have to woo me for at least ten minutes.”

 

“Yeah. I’ll see you next week.” Jared laughed as he hung up. It was something. The smallest suggestion of a lead and far more than Jared had found in several months of looking. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Saturday morning**

Saturday 11 a.m. and a soft autumn sunshine filtered through the gap in Jensen’s blinds, illuminating his surroundings. It played on the mirror and bounced back. Faint rainbows flickered as light scattered through bottles littered on the floor.

Jensen forced his aching, bloodshot eyes open and squinted at the clock. His bedding was tangled and sticky around him. There was a pizza delivery box balanced on his bedside table, and he could smell garlic, grease, vomit and sweat. Somewhere in the muddled debris of his bedroom a phone was ringing, assaulting his ears with its shrill tone. His stomach heaved as he pulled his pillow up to cover his ears and shade his eyes. It took seconds to realize that this was an unsuccessful move and the ex-detective rolled to his side, making good use of the bucket that was placed there. Somewhere in the room the phone ceased ringing.

He should have a shot of whiskey. _Hair of the dog_. A faint memory of throwing the last bottle across the room flitted briefly into his mind and he groaned. He wondered if there was any water within crawling distance.

What day was it anyway? Not that it mattered. He had no forward engagements, no pressing career plans, no husband to worry about him and no friends to miss him. He may as well be dead. _Should have been dead_.

The telephone shrilled, rang again, then stopped. Then again, and stopped, and repeated.

“Bitch!” Jensen stumbled out from the covers and balanced unsteadily by his bed. He patted the pockets of the coat that lay, carelessly abandoned over a set of drawers, fumbling to retrieve his mobile.

“Mama!”

“Jen? ” Jensen wasn’t prepared for this familiar tone.

“Chad?”

“Jen, I know you didn’t...” 

Jensen cut the voice short “Did you get him Chad?” His voice was unsteady, almost pleading

There was faint hesitation at the end of the line, “Jen...”

“Have you got the bastard or not?” Jensen was steady now, colder.

“No Jen. We need to...”

“Piss off Detective Murray.” He flipped the phone shut and tossed it onto the bed. 

Jensen gripped furniture and walls and made it to the shower where he sat, head in hands, letting the water wash over him until it ran cold. Physically it revived him. He brushed his teeth, reveling in the fresh tingle of cold peppermint. He opened the bathroom cabinet pulling out multiple packets and popping a rainbow of multi-colored pills into his hand. He threw them carelessly down his throat, swallowing in one practised gulp. 

Jensen’s apartment was a mess. He started to gather bottles into a garbage bag but leaning down made him dizzy. He sat on the bed and flipped his phone back open. He turned it over in his hands checking for damage but it was intact. There was a new text with Chad’s ID. He supposed he ought to read it but decided to make coffee first. A really strong coffee, he thought.

In the chair by his desk, Jensen took a swig of his coffee and keyed the button to retrieve his text.

It was a succinct message. ‘It’s talk to me or talk to the Feds. I mean it. x Chad x’

Jensen’s fingers stabbed at the keys and he was shouting at the Detective before Chad could fully recite his own name, “What the fuck have the Feds got to do with anything Chad?”

“Jen! Calm down please.”

“Then tell me.”

Jensen had known Detective Murray long enough to know that the short silence ending with cleared throat was Chad building himself up to deliver bad news. He felt an ice grip on his heart. “Murray you better spit this out soon.”

“Just listen Jen. Hang on. Have you seen the news?”

The detective couldn’t hear his friend shrug, “S’drunk Chad.”

Detective Murray huffed. “Okay. Hear me out. I’ve booked a flight for Wednesday. I can meet you at home, you can choose somewhere or the Feds can organize to have you picked up and brought in.”

“I reiterate Chad. Just what the hell have the Feds got to do with this?”

“They made an arrest Jen. They’ve been tracking this guy for years, the kiddie killer, y’know the one, The Marsh Killer. He wanted to deal out of a death sentence, said he could give ‘em ‘The Player’. Told ‘em he’d hooked up with him, played ‘The Game’.  Jensen, he knew _stuff,_ details we’ve never released. If any of what he claims is true then...”

“It was real and there are more victims.” Jensen’s voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. If his stomach contents hadn’t already made the return trip they would have been doing it right then.

“They could be anywhere, go back as far as 5 years.”

“What has any of that got to do with me Chad?”

“We need to go through your statements, your work. Put it in a new perspective. Listen to me Jen. This isn’t about blaming anyone. Feds are actually being helpful. We have a new profiler on the case. If any of this is true we are close. So close. Just need you. You could come back. Permanent, y'know.”

That wrung a wry laugh from the man with his stick, “Yeah, the cripple in the corner with a bottle of Jack in his desk. Right Chad? Book the flight. Book a meeting room at the local Precinct. Call me back with the details. We discuss my statements. You go back home. Understand?”

“Jenny.”

“Yeah.”

“Be careful.”

“Yeah. Okay. We’ll talk later Chad. Maybe I’ll stay sober a while.”

“Do that. Speak later!”

****

Jared clicked ‘print’ and glanced at the time on his screen. 12:00.

He tried not to work on Saturday mornings, but the last few days had been hard. There had been long nights and missed deadlines. 

Caitlin was sitting, legs curled under her, on the sofa in his office. Harley and Sadie sat next to her and she was stroking Sadie’s ears unconsciously while chewing on a pencil. The sun shone golden light on her hair, and he thought she looked more peaceful than he had ever seen. She had chosen to sit with him since early that morning. He guessed she was feeling guilty for distracting him from his work the preceding few days. He had let her organize the small amount of filing he had built up, then given her some recent documents with instructions to find the typos.

They had worked together in comfortable silence until Caitlin declared her own work complete, made them both a cup of tea and curled back up with her puzzles. 

He collected his drawing from the printer and spoke “You up for a little walk with the mutts?”

“Are you finished then?”

“For now. The sun is shining and it’s a gorgeous day out there. We shouldn’t waste it.”

“I’ll go get my coat.”

Jared didn’t argue. It wasn’t cold enough for the layers that Caitlin would wrap herself in, but he understood her motivation to wear clothes that she could hide in.

Caitlin ran up the stairs and quickly rounded the corner of the first floor. She suddenly ground to a halt. She clutched clumsily at the wall in an attempt to avoid the man who was bent to retrieve a newspaper on the floor. With one rapid glance she noted the walking stick and dipped to the floor, picking up pages and rearranging them into order. 

“Thanks,” he murmured, grateful for the help.

They straightened themselves up at the same time, and Caitlin found herself face to face with an imposing man with freckles and startling green eyes. His lips were moving, saying something but she was frozen. She stared wide eyed at him. Her mouth opened and closed, then she tipped her head sideways, gaze travelling over him, as if examining him, “You were on TV,” she inexplicably blurted out before dashing into the apartment next to Jensen’s, closing the door behind her.

Jensen stared after the slamming door, his mind struggling to process the brief encounter. He considered how much he’d been drinking over the previous few days. Either he was crazy or his neighbor was a hooker. He really wasn’t sure the latter was the true, she seemed so different from the unfortunate day he’d spotted her in Harvelle’s and he had no idea why she would think he was an actor. Did she really say that?

Five minutes later Jensen decided that he needed to know if he had imagined the encounter in the corridor. He braced himself at his neighbor’s door, proffering an empty plate that had previously borne blueberry muffins. He heard her calling “Okay. Okay. I’m on my way,” with a hint of laughter in her voice as she pulled her door open.

The change in his neighbor’s manner was profound as she registered the man stood at her doorway. Wide-eyed and terrified, she backed away from him.

Jensen proffered the plate gently, also backing away slightly, his police training kicking in as he noted how fearful she was.

“I brought this back.”

Caitlin reached out tentatively, removing the plate from him, her eyes not leaving his face. Her coat sleeve caught slightly with the movement, revealing dark bruises and raised scars on her wrist. Jensen fought back an urge to reach out, take her hand and ask how she’d received the injuries, her body language was becoming increasingly closed off. Jensen realized with a jolt that he was looking at the cleaner he had watched from the staircase. He was beginning to wonder if she was a twin or a triplet, because it seemed impossible that she could be so like the hooker and yet different in movement and manner.

She looked behind his shoulder and trembled as she spoke, “I’m going out, expecting someone. I can’t... don’t want... Please just go,” she was tearful, begging him.

Jensen was confused but his quick mind was making connections and he pulled back from her. “It’s okay. I have to go anyway. I’m Jensen, if you need anything, I’m just next door. I’ll just, em, go now then.”

****

Jared was in the lobby cooling his heels, Caitlin was taking forever to put her coat on, and Harley and Sadie were getting restless. “Stay,” he commanded his dogs, hoping he sounded like he meant it, then loped up the stairs to retrieve his charge.

Jensen was opening his apartment door as Jared swung into the first floor corridor calling Caitlin’s name. He turned as he recognized the voice. _Jared._ Jensen found himself bubbling with anger, so many loose ends tying in his head. The last time he had seen her was with Jared. She had bruises, inflicted in the last few days, and there was fear rolling from her as she waited for someone to arrive.Then Jared, _Jared_ turning up again, calling her name.

Jared was knocked breathless as a strong hand snatched him by the throat and slammed him against the wall. He was a large man and fit, but it was years since he'd ever had to fight and was taken aback by the man who was now leaning into his personal space, knee practically in Jared’s crotch. Jensen’s breath ghosted over Jared’s neck, it smelt of alcohol and mouthwash. They looked at each other for a long moment, and Jared’s breath quickened just a little more as he recognized the green eyed man from Harvelle’s.

“You disgust me,” Jensen snarled at Jared.

“Huh,” was all that Jared could manage. He had no idea why he was in this situation and his body was reacting in the most embarrassing manner. He was being held forcibly and close, and the excitement sent waves of electric through the whole of his body. His heart was speeding and he could feel his trousers tightening at the groin. Damn, he had to think straight but his brain was unraveling in the most delicious way.

“Please. Let go Jensen. Please let go.” Caitlin was crying and pulling gently on Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen was aware that he couldn’t hold the larger man for much longer. He was leaning intimately close, using his left leg between Jared’s and against the wall to brace himself. His right arm was tiring as he held on to the stick in his left.

“I never want to see bruises on her again,” Jensen growled as he released his hold abruptly. Jared stumbled as he was freed. He watched speechless as the green eyed man limped into apartment 2 and slammed the door behind him.

“What? Caitlin? Wh..?”

“Can we go now?” Caitlin was pulling on Jared’s arm. He thought she was surprisingly calm in the circumstances, but she was nevertheless upset. He sighed and cuddled her, “We’ll go now if you’ll tell me what that was about later.”

Jared had an uneasy feeling that he should probably straighten this out with his tenant, right now, but seeing the tremble in Caitlin’s hand he led her downstairs, handed her the dog leashes and quipped with false bravado that it was about time Harley and Sadie got to take Caitlin for her walk.


	8. Bad feelings

**Saturday Evening**

 

As the afternoon air started to chill, Jared and Caitlin sat with their backs to a tree that was dropping burnished red leaves. Harley and Sadie panted at their feet. The dogs had played for several hours.

 

Caitlin was looking into the distance, to the buildings at the edge of the park. “Jared,” she said pointing at the squat 1950’s office block, surrounded by hoarding, “That’s one of your projects isn’t it?”

 

Jared turned to look thoughtfully at her, “Yeah. How did you know?”

 

“I recognize it from one of the proposals you gave me to check. I like it. What you’re doing I mean. I know lots would say you should renovate it in its original style, but I like that you’re keeping the redeemable features, and replacing the crumbling areas with something new and a bit quirky. It’s going to have loads of character.”

 

“You understood all that stuff?”

 

“What’s not to understand? Why else give it me to check?”

 

“Yeah,” Jared laughed, “I’m glad you like it. It can be a great building. I want it to be friendly to work in y’know.”

 

Caitlin nodded, gazing intently at Jared, and he thought that maybe she did know.

 

“Oh hell, I forgot.” Caitlin jumped to her feet and tugged at Jared’s hand, “I told JD I’d help out with the snacks for his party. We gotta go.”

 

Jared's eyes widened with disbelief as he rose to his feet to join her.

 

“Close your mouth Jay. It’s unbecoming,” Caitlin teased.

 

“You talk to JD?”

 

“Well, he goes to work every day, at the same time, and I’m in the lobby.  After three weeks of him saying good morning, I guess I felt a little rude ignoring him.”

 

“You’ve been talking to him all this time, and you never thought to mention it?”

 

“I just... Oh, I don’t know. It’s not much. We say something about the weather or the news. Just lately he said a little about his ex wife. I think he’s lonely. He told me about his party and it’s just us, you know. All the people I know in this building. I really want to try Jay, try to get better.”

 

She nudged him with her elbow, “Pleased with me?” she asked smugly. “I can stay in the kitchen if I like. JD said he’d understand if I did that.”

 

“Does he know about you?” Jared asked softly.

 

“He knows I’m batshit crazy. I told him I have Multiple Personality Disorder. I think he went away and looked it up on the internet. He hasn’t run away from me.” She grinned giving a little shrug.

 

Jared gave a lopsided smile from under his bangs. They both knew she hadn’t answered the question he was really asking. They walked the dogs back home in silence, with and he tried to work out just what he was going to say to his newest tenant, to Jensen. He had no real idea what it was Jensen thought he had done, but he was fairly sure it had to do with the unfortunate ending to their encounter in Harvelle’s. It was going to be a very awkward conversation. 

 

***

 

Jensen spent time cleaning, worked a few chapters on the book he was editing, then took out his frustrations on his physio exercises until pain made his eyes water. The pain let him know he had survived, reminded and punished him for his mistakes.

 

He rang his mother to make the appropriate noises at her news and sympathize over the hard social decisions she had to make. He snorted with laughter as she described her encounter with her stuck-up new priest and his bigoted views. “Jensen love, his face when I told him I was hoping my son and his boyfriend would get married in his church! I’m going to make a strong complaint to his superiors. I’ve told him, from now on I am going to sing and dance in the Baptist Church over on Hyacinth Way, while his stuffed-shirt congregation listens to his depressing sermons." She paused then, "You are at least looking at other men aren’t you Jensen? You have to get back on the horse sometime you know.”

 

Jensen practically choked at the riding reference his mother made, especially since a face had come unbidden into his mind, and he felt a familiar heat in his groin as she said it. Damn Jared! How could he even think fleetingly about the guy in such a way, knowing what he was?

 

“Mum. You know, on that subject I’ve an invite to a party tonight. I really have to get changed and go get a bottle of wine or something. Yeah. You know I love you too.”

 

Jensen, showered, picked out a pair of well fitted casual black jeans and teamed it with a soft green jersey button-down that complimented his eyes. He put on boots, grabbed his stick and set out for the local shop to choose a good wine and some chocolate for JD. At least one neighbor seemed normal, and he had yet to meet the people in Apartments 1 and 5.

 

Jensen had already gone out when Jared called at his door and the ‘awkward’ conversation was postponed once more.

 

Jared called at Apartment 2 one more time, before making his way up to the 3rd floor, but there was no reply and no lights were visible. Jensen hadn’t returned from wherever it was he had gone.

 

Jared’s stomach knotted uncomfortably. He remembered how badly he had behaved to the man, leading him on, then just dropping him and running out like he had. At the time Jensen had been a random stranger to him. Jared hadn’t even known his name. How the hell could he have known that the green-eyed, freckle-featured man was Jensen Ackles, latest resident at Madison House Mansions? 

 

***

 

Jared knocked at JD’s door, then let himself in. Jo and Ellen were already in the divorcee’s living room. There were some beers on the coffee table and the two ladies were giggling over JD’s computer. They motioned ‘Ssshh’ at Jared and waved him into the kitchen. “Go distract the free man while we set this up Jay,” Jo hissed. Jared raised an eyebrow, “I don’t want to know do I?”

 

“No. Now, go be a good distraction,” Ellen stage-whispered.

 

“Jay-man! Thank God you’re here. I’m out-numbered, and I think I just agreed to something I am going to regret.” JD rolled his eyes and pointed in the direction of the Harvelles. “They got me a present,” he said uncomfortably.

 

“Oh hey, show me dude,” Jared said enthusiastically.

 

“It’s a membership,” JD looked away and fiddled with his cuff-link.

 

Caitlin chuckled revealing her hidden position, at the work surface, behind the kitchen door. “It’s for an internet dating agency.” Her face shone with amusement and Jared smiled back.

“Ooh. Those little pastries look amazing.” Jared stuck out his hand and snatched one from the plate. He wiped the crumbs from the side of his mouth as he chewed, “Taste good too. Oh man, I think we should discipline those girls. We should ban ‘em from eating the food. More for us.”

 

JD gave Jared a friendly slap on his back, “You can tell ‘em Jay. They scare me.”

 

Caitlin looked over at them, “I’m okay here. You two can go get a beer.”

 

The two men settled onto the couch, letting Ellen and Jo complete the dirty deed on JD's computer.

“They’re probably describing me as a midget clown with buck-teeth,” JD commented, then looked at Jared and frowned a little.” So is this the moment when you warn me off your girl in there?”He indicated Caitlin in the kitchen.

 

“Do I need to? I mean, do you have any ungentlemanly intentions?”

 

“No. She’s just easy. You know, to talk to. There’s no complicated rush of chatter back from her. Weather and how the building is holding up. It’s good for me. I thought my ears would never recover from that ex wife of mine!”

 

“Wow, just wow,” Jared breathed out, “I’ve never heard Caitie described as easy to talk to.” He fidgeted a little knowing that he was obliged to broach the next subject. “So, what’s Caitlin told you about herself?”

 

“She’s told me that you rescued her from the nut-house. You’re her knight in shining armor, except, you know, a very gay one,” JD grinned but the smile dropped as he continued talking, “She doesn’t remember anything before this year. She suffers from Multiple Personality Disorder which her doctor thinks was triggered by a traumatic stress event sometime before April, combined with childhood issues. How am I doing so far?”

 

Jared nodded grimly, “Anything else?”

 

JD continued, “Oh, and she was working as a prostitute when she was arrested for stabbing her pimp. He was badly injured. She attacked a cop during her arrest, giving him a wound that required stitches. She was examined by the police shrink, declared mentally unfit for questioning and committed to Glenview for psych assessment. She was fond of your brother, and Glenview is where you found her.”

 

“Didn’t really stab him, her pimp,” Jared fixed hazel eyes on the ex-marine, “It was more _carved,_ really, if she did it. She blames herself but there wasn't enough evidence to be sure.”

 

JD blinked but didn’t seem overly disturbed by the news. “Figures. The guilt when she told me about it, it seemed to overwhelm her.”

 

“What did you say?” Jared asked.

 

“I said that I’m an ex marine, and if any one of her tried to stab me, I’d kick their ass. She seemed to like that answer, so we left it there.”

 

The harsh noise of the door buzzer interrupted their conversation and JD excused himself to answer it. Jo and Ellen looked up from the screen they had been focused on, and Jo clapped her hands excitedly, “Oh. JD said the new guy is hot.”

 

Jared glanced at Jo, realizing that she didn’t know that she had already met Jensen. He wondered what sort of conversation had taken place between Jensen and Jo, after he had run out on them at Harvelle’s. It clearly hadn’t included introducing themselves to each other.

 

JD showed Jensen into the spacious living room with a sweep of his arm. He spoke affably “This is Jensen Ackles. Meet the gang Jensen.” He was at a loss to understand the sudden deep silence that enveloped his guests.

 

Jensen flicked his eyes up, first at Ellen and Jo, then to Jared. The light seemed to dim and the atmosphere became thick and somehow colder. Jensen, Jo and Jared broke the silence at once, Jensen in a broken squeak, “You have to be kidding me.” Jared apologetically, “Jensen, um I think we got off to a bad start.” Jo’s voice was the most strident and cut across all other conversation, “You invited that dick?”

 

Jensen shoved the wine and chocolates at JD and walked back down the hall to the main door. “M’Sorry. My mistake,” he mumbled as he left.

 

JD and Jared hardly noticed Jensen leave. Both leaped to Jo’s side. “Jo. What did he do to you?” JD was concerned, remembering the gun that Jensen had been clutching when he first met him.

 

“Jo, What was it?” Jared asked, reaching out to gently squeeze her shoulder.

 

Ellen answered for her daughter, “Jay, it’s more about what he did to you.”

 

“Why? What did he do to me?” Jared’s forehead wrinkled, and his eyebrows knitted in confusion. Ellen and Jo couldn’t possibly have seen the incident by Caitlin’s apartment.

 

“We couldn’t help but notice how upset you were sweetie,” Ellen spoke sympathetically, “You left so suddenly.”

 

“And he had the audacity to call Harvelle’s a whorehouse. Where does the guy get his nerve?” interjected Jo angrily.

 

Jared groaned and sat heavily on the sofa, “No. No. No. You don’t get it. Oh God! He’s a nice guy. It was me. It was....Caitlin ...there was...” He huffed, put his head in his hands and tried to concentrate on breathing.

 

“Jay you’re making no sense,” Ellen said firmly, sitting herself down beside her big friend.

 

“Jensen’s done nothing wrong. It was me. It was a situation.” He lowered his voice knowing that Caitlin was still in the kitchen, “A situation with Caitie. I handled it badly. It’s all got so terribly out of control.” Jared was gesturing the hopelessness with big movements of his arms in a heavenwards motion. “I have to go find him, explain it all.”

 

“Jay, I don’t even want to consider what sort of situation creates the reaction we got from Ackles. I guess this means we ought to unban him and apologize with free coffee for a lifetime,” Ellen groaned, glaring pointedly at Jo.

 

Jared got to his feet, “I have to talk to him before this gets any worse.”

 

JD put his arm out across Jared’s chest gently halting him. “Whoa. Jay before you go rushing in there I want you to be careful. It’s probably nothing but you should know that when I called on Jensen the other day he had a gun. I’m pretty sure it was loaded, it was certainly real, and he answered the door carrying it.”

 

This new information elicited a screech from Jo, “What is it with you Jay? Have you reserved the second floor exclusively for freaks?”

 

The friends all heard the soft gasp from the kitchen. Caitlin turned and ran swiftly out of the door that Jensen had left open.

 

Jared took a few moments to react, then made after her, careful not to run too fast, he didn’t want her to feel she was being threatened or chased. He was surprised to see JD accompanying him down the stairs.

 

“Jay, let me see to Caitie. I know what she needs to hear. I have no idea what needs to be fixed between you and Jensen, so you go and do that. I can do this Jared.” JD’s voice was reassuring and in control.

 

Jared came to a decision quickly, reached into his pocket and gave his friend a set of keys. “If you need it, only if you need it, there’s a locked medicine cabinet outside the safe-room, you’ll know it when you see it. There are two loaded syringes. Just need the one, it’s a sedative.”

 

They reached the first floor together and headed for an apartment each.

 

Jared buzzed Jensen’s door, then banged heavily with his fist. “Mr. Ackles. We really need to talk.”

 

He rested his head against the cool smoothness of the painted door and listened. He heard no sounds of movement and there was no light, but he spoke anyway, hoping for a response.

 

“Jensen. Please speak to me. I know how it looked the other day. I’m sorry I acted like an idiot. I’m sorry about letting Jo and Ellen think you were in the wrong. They’re sorry about what they said. I know how it looks at the moment but it isn’t like that. Mr. Ackles please open the door.”

 

There was no reply, no indication that Jensen was home. Jared gave up and strode to the end of the corridor to call the elevator. It came upwards from the lobby. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” Jared rode to the ground floor and ran out onto the lobby steps. He squinted down the dimly lit street but couldn’t see Jensen. All he could do was await his tenant’s return and hope for a chance to explain.

 

****

Jensen took a booth in the darkest recess of the first dingy bar he saw when his anger was interrupted by a sharp pain, down through his spine, making him stumble. He asked for a shot glass and gave the waitress an icy glare when she questioned the wisdom of his order for a full bottle of Jack with it. The barman looked in his direction with raised eyebrows, but nothing more was said.

 

He was on his third glass when a tall man with shaggy brown hair casually propped his hip against the bar and surveyed the room for business, licking his lips to a shine, running his fingers provocatively up his thigh before dipping into his pocket to pay for his beer.

 

Jensen continued his assault on the bottle of Jack while watching the man through half lidded eyes that were becoming progressively more glazed. He thought shaggy-haired man had a sexy-cute smile. Not a light-up-the-room-with-sunshine sort of smile that Jared had, but nice all the same. He wasn’t as well built as Jared but he was tall and athletic and his mouth was wide and shiny, and Jensen could imagine it parted and wet around his cock.

 

A beer bottle slammed onto the table by Jensen’s glass. “You enjoying the view?” Shaggy haired man licked his lips and leaned in toward Jensen. “If you wanted more than the view you can take me out back. It’s been said that I am very, very good at making a man forget his troubles.” He breathed, hot, thick and dirty on Jensen’s ear.

 

“Take you in what way?” breathed Jensen.

 

“Any way you want sweetheart. You name your kink, I name my price.”

 

“I don’t pay,” mumbled Jensen. Shaggy haired guy squatted slightly beside the green eyed man, ran a large hand delicately up Jensen’s thigh and settled his palm against the stretched denim that covered Jensen’s rapidly swelling member. Smoldering brown eyes fixed on that freckled face, “Darlin’ you drink your money away trying to forget the bastard, but you know it’s gonna feel a whole lot worse in the morning than spending your money on me. I’m told I am mind-blowingly awesome.”

 

“Is it just minds that you blow?” smiled Jensen, warming to the man-whore a little, “Sit!” He motioned to the empty seat opposite him, and shaggy-haired guy sat, rubbing a warm leg against Jensen’s firm calves.

 

Brown eyes fixed on him as the guy lifted the beer bottle to his lips and extended his tongue to swipe it slowly around the rim before sucking the beer down through a rounded mouth. He let a slight trickle of golden liquid spill over his lips and down his chin. Jensen groaned, imagining the shining droplet on Jared’s neck, running down toward Jared’s firm chest. Pulling the whore’s hand down to rest the bottle on the table, Jensen leaned in and licked the droplet gently from his chin.

 

“Why do you do this to yourself?” whispered Jensen.

 

“Nights like this, trade like you, because I enjoy it. Other times, because I need the money, because it’s what I’m good at. It’s not forever. I’m saving for school; I'm going to be a writer.” Shaggy haired guy shrugged, “It’s not you taking advantage of me. No-one takes advantage of me. I want this as much as I think you want this.”

 

"What do you write?" Jensen tried to be conversational.

 

"I write, very, good....porn," his voice was thick as sin.

 

The hand was back on Jensen’s bulging groin, a thumb lightly sweeping back and forth over the stretched material. Jensen felt his resolve shattering, “You should probably take me somewhere now...I’m mmm good for it. Oh God,” Jensen’s voice was cracked.

***

 

The motel room was cheap but clean. Jensen sat on the edge of the bed, back arched, hands fisting through the thick brunette locks, pulling the wet, kiss-plump lips down onto his swollen shaft, “Mm God, oh yeah, there.” Shaggy-haired guy swallowed him down, slick tongue teasing him, Jensen let himself relax into the rhythm, picturing Jared’s hazel eyes, Jared’s silky long bangs, Jared’s dimples. He came, eyes closed, spilling into a condom, with his cock deep in the willing throat and with Jared’s name on his lips.

 

The man-whore slowly released his shaft with a soft plop and kissed the tip. He cleaned Jensen with small feathery light licks, sighing slightly. Jensen opened his eyes to deep brown eyes that most definitely did not belong to Jared. Jensen reached his hand behind the man’s neck, curling his fingers into the mussed hair and pulling the whore’s lips up to his own in a messy, rubbery kiss. 

 

As he pulled away sated and drowsy, Jensen spoke quietly “I’m sorry that was rude. You’re worth ten of him you know. Worth more than this.”

 

“It’s okay. I get called all sorts. Occupational hazard. I never object to a tip though,” grinned shaggy-haired guy, “You want a shower?”

 

"I want you to read to me again."

 

"Mm, now that's a kink I can do. You like my porn?"

 

Jensen smiled languidly up at him. Now he looked properly, he was more of a boy than a man. Old enough though. "It sells for more if you call it erotic literature, and so you know, English is definitely the right major for you." He settled back to listen.

 

Jensen fucked him a few pages later. It wasn't loving, but it wasn't unkind either. It was hot, wet, fast and effective and when he came he bit down on his tongue and didn't call any name. He brought the whore off too, jacking him hard and fast through his own orgasm.

 

He didn't let himself lie back, drowsy and fulfilled. He forced his eyes open and rose from the bed.

 

“I’ll just get washed up. Do you, should you erm keep the room?” Jensen was awkward now, unsure of what came next in this unfamiliar situation.

 

“Man, you’re such a virgin. This really is the first time you ever paid isn't it?” It was said with kind amusement, and Jensen was grateful for that. “It’ll be nice to keep the room. Thanks. You should probably get a cab. I can call one for you.”

 

As the taxi pulled up, Jensen looked hesitantly at the man he had paid to be with, “I don’t even know your name. I’m Jensen.”

 

“I thought you’d never ask.” The brunette grinned and palmed a card into the ex-detective’s hand. “I’m Mark. Call me.”


	9. Consequences

**Early Hours, Sunday morning**

 

Jensen stumbled into his apartment at 2 a.m. He still smelled of sex and he quite liked it. He sat on the soft cover of his bed struggling to remove his socks and briefly wondered what Tom would have said. He giggled to himself, it would have been something about a self-destruct button. The sobering thought occurred to him that this was the first time he had even considered Tom tonight. Perhaps Jared knew something that none of his shrinks had. Hot sex with a whore was evidently a good thing.

 

Jensen decided not to take any sleeping pills or even more alcohol. For once he felt content and sleepy. He wondered if he could dream about hot sex with Jared, except in his dream Jared would be gay and an absolute non-bastard. It was a good plan.

 

****

_The handle of the knife is smooth and cool to touch. It is a satisfying weight that turns easily in the hand. The other hand touches flesh, runs firmly over the tautly bound arms, slowly over the bony roundness of the shoulder. Fluttering fingers briefly investigate the tattoo angel with the cartoon-cute eyes. The blade flashes with reflected light as it sinks easily through the skin, like slicing butter. There is nothing at first, a dark pencil line drawn on paper white skin. Then, there’s faint crimson bubbling at the edges of the line. It spills over and trickles downwards, joining more, streaming into a bloody river below the fountain that pumps with a slowing pulse. His eyes fix on his assailant, they fade as his life force ebbs, and for a moment it looks like he mouths the word ‘thank-you’, and smiles. It's hard to tell when you're busy admiring the garish, gaping red grin carved below the dying man’s face. The edges of the face blur and morph as more blood flows. Jared Padalecki’s hazel eyes stare lifelessly while sticky fluid congeals into blackened puddles below the large body._

_Emma smiles, sickly sweet, over at Caitlin who is wordlessly watching, pressed against the wall, shivering in panic, with tears streaming down her cheeks. Dear, silent Caitlin._

_Jane grinds her hips hotly against Emma, moaning, sexy and hot, oblivious and needy._

_In the corner of the cold concrete room the other woman is hogtied, struggling against the ropes, screaming soundlessly into a gag._

_Emma steps across the cell and removes the gag with one swift tug, “Aw darling I love to hear you scream.”_

_Emma walks away as screams, shrill and desperate, echo against the dirty concrete walls. She looks back momentarily at the bloody body she carved. Detective Ackles’ gold-green eyes, angry and dangerous, meet her glance._

 

****

 

Jensen fidgeted in the darkness as the screams cut into the night air. He tried to find the dream in which they belonged, but there was none. No Tom, no cold cellar floor, no black terror, just the unrelenting screech of genuine horror. He opened his eyes, pushing the mantle of sleep away. He was fairly sure he was awake, but the screaming hadn’t stopped.

 

Adrenalin and training kicked in. The ex-detective grabbed at his stick and swung from his bed. He listened carefully to locate the source of the desperate sounds.

 

“No. No. Please. Stop. Please. Stop. Stop. NOOOO. HELP. HELP ME!” The cries were ragged, pleading and then the screaming started again, and Jensen knew he was listening to his neighbor. He cocked his head to one side as he thought he heard another, lower voice. Jared! These weren’t the sounds of some kinky sex-play, he was hurting her, and to his experienced ear, it sounded serious.

 

Jensen grabbed at his mobile and dialed 911, gave all the relevant details and identified himself to ensure the call was taken seriously. He grabbed up a T Shirt and threw it on with his soft PJ trousers. He opened his desk drawer and withdrew his gun, sliding the clip out, checking it and replacing it. There was a breeze filtering through a barely open window. It scattered cool air onto Jensen’s bare arms but that wasn’t the only reason he shivered with goose bumps prickling his flesh.

 

Jensen turned the handle on his neighbor’s door but it was locked. He banged his fist against the wood, competing against the muffled cries, sobs and piercing screams. He forced his voice into a reasoned negotiating tone. “Jared. You need to stop. Open the door. We can work this out.”

 

The screaming didn’t stop, but Jensen could hear Jared’s answer. It was too calm, too reasonable, “Wait there! Gonna get the door as soon as I can. Be a few minutes.”

 

“Jared. You need to open it now.”

 

Jared’s next reply was ground out with low authority, “Just go away.”

 

Jensen raised his gun against the door and blew out the lock, raising a miniature dust cloud and an astounding noise which reverberated around the building.

 

He checked the corridor, single handed grasp on his pistol, finger resting lightly on the trigger. He leaned against the wall, for cover and support while using his stick to swing the first door open. It opened into the master-bedroom.

 

Jared was getting to his feet, standing over Caitlin, turning toward Jensen as he burst into the room. Jared’s startled face paled as he absorbed the full implication of the gun aimed at his chest.

 

Caitlin rocked herself on the floor below the tall architect. She was keening, her eyes open but unfocussed. Somewhere, in the streets below, sirens sounded and graduated to a crescendo as police cars converged on the building and spilled law enforcement onto the sidewalk and into Madison House Mansions.

 

“Ackles,” breathed Jared nervously, “Is that gun loaded?”

 

“Step away from the lady slowly, sir,” Jensen’s voice was all business, as he reviewed the situation professionally.

 

The woman was still rocking. It was becoming a more agitated action. He couldn’t see any obvious injuries but she seemed dazed. Then, without warning she was screaming again, begging for help and Jared was looking at him, hazel eyes pleading, “I have to... it’s a nightmare Ackles, a nightmare. Please! You have to let me comfort her.” Jared raised his hands but began to kneel closer to Caitlin.

 

When the cops searched the apartment they found Jared kneeling next to a catatonic Caitlin, and Jensen purposefully pointing a gun at Jared’s head.

 

“Put the gun down slowly, sir.”

 

Jensen raised his hands outwards, audibly clicking on the safety. He reached sideways and held it out for the officers to remove.

 

“Wow. You don’t hang around, do you? I’m Jensen Ackles. I called this in.” Jensen kicked his toe slightly toward Jared’s knee, where he was kneeling on the floor beside him.

 

The cop who had removed Jensen’s gun flicked on her own safety and holstered her gun. Both cops joined Jensen, circling warily around the two figures sat on the bedroom floor.

 

“Are you hurt Detective Ackles, Mr. Padalecki?” The cop looked concerned, and to Jensen something didn’t seem right about the scenario. There was something ‘off’ in the Officer’s reactions and expressions.

 

“What? No.” Jensen replied and moved forward to get past Jared to Caitlin. “Need to see how bad he hurt her. Get him cuffed and out of here.”

 

Jensen kept moving past Jared. What a typical bully! He thought, registering how the big man seemed frozen now he had been challenged. As he reached out to touch the woman on the floor, he heard a chorus of “NO!” from the two officers and Jared, all yelling in unison. He felt huge warm hands grab his arms firmly but gently, preventing him from reaching any further. “What the hell?” Jared had just put his arms around him and the police officers were doing nothing to restrain him. Jensen was confused and wondered what vital details he was missing.

 

“Detective Ackles, please move away for your own safety sir.”

 

“How? I’m being held down by this...”

 

“Idiot,” Jared completed, loosening his grip on Jensen’s arms, his mouth starting to curl into a nervous grin as color returned to his complexion.

 

“I’m an idiot and ‘m sorry, and oh God! There’s half the force here, isn’t there? I should get her into the safe room.” He spoke it to the cops rather than Jensen and now Jensen’s mouth was gaping. He tried to inventory the day’s alcohol intake because the cops were smiling at Jared, and he was being allowed to shuffle across to Caitlin and lift her into those huge, strong arms of his. Jared paused as a dark haired man, tie askew, coat swinging, strode into the room.

 

“Jay. Put her down. On-call psych’s been paged. Sorry pal. The 911 alleged that you assaulted Caitlin. We have to take it seriously. ”

 

The man flashed blue eyes and a quirky grin at Jensen, and then stretched out his hand to greet him, “Detective Ackles. I’m Detective Collins, call me Misha. I wasn’t expecting to meet you till Wednesday, but it’s an unexpected pleasure. That is aside from the fact that I have been dragged from my bed and a cozy rendezvous with my wife.”

 

“I’m not in the force anymore. It’s just Jensen. Jensen Ackles.”

 

Misha chuckled a little, “Semantics, Detective Ackles. You know some Officers retire, but they never truly leave. I’m thinking you fit that mold.”

 

“Don’t you think it’s a little soon to be making assumptions about me?”

 

“Assumptions?” the blue eyes sparkled with laughter, “Your partner Chad has to be the biggest office gossip I ever had the pleasure to pump information from!”

 

The ex-detective swallowed and spoke up, a little testily, “Are you going to arrest the abusive bastard sometime today?”

 

“Well. Now who’s making assumptions?” Jared had placed Caitlin in the recovery position and moved to stand next to Detective Collins. He was pulling what could best be described as a ‘bitch-face’ at Jensen.

 

“She okay? She breathing?” Misha spoke to Jared gently’ and the big guy’s face crumpled, “S’breathing but this,” he gulped and shrugged his arms. It’s new. She’s never, I mean she doesn’t, never like that. Y’know nightmares, yeah, but never the screaming and then,” Jared looked over at the still, silent form on the floor and a few tears scattered through his long lashes, “Never so still, like she just vanished. All of her,” he gulped again.

 

Jensen’s senses were beginning to inform him that all was not as it seemed. He’d seen the sudden remorse and apparent care of hundreds of abusive men but this didn’t have the same feel to it. He thought, rather belatedly, that he should shut up and perhaps listen to what Jared was saying.

 

There was movement and low chatter in the hallway as yet another figure pushed his way into the now crowded bedroom.

 

“Doc!” the relief on Jared’s face was clear to everyone in the room. “Are those pajamas under that coat?”

 

The doctor pushed his wire glasses up his nose, ran a finger through unbrushed hair and knelt beside Caitlin. “What! I get a half-loopy call on my emergency line from you Jared, then, when I’m getting my shit together I get bleeped by the Station with this address, then you don’t answer my text back, and I’m supposed to assume it’s not life or death? I get any speeding tickets you’re paying them. There’s an ambulance and orderlies following.”

 

Jensen watched the blue-eyed detective as the man fought to contain laughter, a lopsided grin forming on his face. He wondered at the easy familiarity between the Detective, Jared and this Doctor.

 

Within moments, Detective Collins was all business again. “Okay team. Doc’s here. You can stand down. Two officers stay, whoever has the longest left of their shift or the least paperwork to do. Everyone else is dismissed.

 

Jensen raised an eyebrow at the detective. The action was met with an ice-blue glare. “I am not on duty tonight Detective Ackles so excuse me if, in the rush to avoid bloodshed, I am unfamiliar with my squad. Furthermore, I‘m not going to waste time and effort on a school-trip to the Station when I can sort this out here and now, with only half the paperwork. Clear?”

 

“So, why are you here for a ‘domestic’ at all?” Jensen was confused.

 

“That will be because your 911 cited two addresses, both of which have my informal marker against them for _immediate, armed, make sure you have your shit together and by the way I will beat your asses if I’m not paged,_ response.” The detective didn’t wait for the next question he could see forming in the ex-detectives eyes. “Detective Murray is worried about you. He asked me. I agreed. He can’t be bothered to argue with you about it, and neither can I. Get over it. As for this address, Jared can be bouncy, loud, stubborn and ever so irritating, but I have no wish to see him filleted.”

 

Misha’s outburst caught both Jensen and Jared off-guard and for a moment their eyes met in a curious glance, wondering at the information they had just been thrown. Jared broke first, hazel eyes shifting to the floor as he colored. His fists balled tensely by his side, “She hasn’t hurt anyone,” he ground out.

 

“Okay then. Detective Ackles, if you would be so kind as to go through to the kitchen and find the kettle. I’ll be there in just a moment to take your statement. Tea with milk & two sugars for Mr. Padalecki, black for Doc Carver and white no sugar for me.” He shooed a startled Jensen out of the room before addressing Jared and Dr. Carver, “I’m leaving an Officer here with you. So you know Doc, there is an allegation that Jared has assaulted Caitlin. You will take whatever information is needed to treat her, after that, standard drill. Sorry, a formal exam is needed. As soon as you’re ready, the Officer will take Mr. Padalecki through to the Living Room and get his statement. I’ll need to talk to you about the call you received from Jared too.” He nodded his dismissal as he left the room.

 

Jared bit his lip and shrugged at the doctor. He looked shattered and pale. “I did NOT hurt her Doc.”

 

“Just tell me everything that did happen, Jay.”

 

In two separate rooms Jared and Jensen set about explaining the events of that evening.

 

****

 

Misha sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

 

“Can you read and sign the statement please, sir.”

 

Jensen signed quickly, he had watched the detective as he wrote and was satisfied that it was correct.

 

There was a knock on the door and Doctor Carver entered, “Caitlin’s away in the ambulance. I’ve found a space at Glenview for now.” Misha quirked his eyebrow at the disheveled doctor. “I figure I’ll foot the bill tonight and decide where to go from there. Caitlin has no cuts, contusions or other injuries consistent with assault in the last 12 hours. There are bruises consistent with struggle against wrist restraints, possibly a few days old. It’s no more than I’ve seen after we’ve restrained her. We’ll do bloods and report fully in a day or so.” He dialed a code and handed his cell phone to the detective. “You wanted to know what message Jared left. It’s there, along with the time it was made. I’d like a private word with Mr. Ackles and Mr. Padalecki before I leave, as soon as you’re ready of course.”

 

“I’m done. Mr. Ackles is all yours while I take a look at Jay’s statement, but I think we’re mostly looking at a case of criminal miscommunication. Misha rolled his eyes at Jensen before leaving the room.

 

“And you need to speak to me why, exactly?” Jensen was tired and irritated. His knee and back hurt, and the beginning of a hangover was threatening, not to mention the slightly sick feeling he had acquired when he’d been asked about his own activities that evening, about which he had been creatively vague.

 

“I’d like to know, honestly, if Caitlin hurt or tried to hurt you or Mr. Padalecki in any way.”

 

“No. No. She was the one screaming and then she just stopped and stared, like she was when you arrived. Will you please tell me what this is all about because I’ve had enough of all this crap? I’m tired, and none of this makes sense.”

 

Misha popped his head around the door. “Y’know Doc, I’m about ready to go now. I think we should talk to Mr. Ackles and Mr. Padalecki together. I’ve a feeling your lecture and mine is going to be similar.”

 

The Doc nodded mutely and gestured for Jensen to join Jared in the living room.

 

“Sit!” growled Detective Collins, pointing at the one sofa in the room which was already occupied by Jared.

 

Jared folded his legs a little and scooted over to accommodate Jensen. They sat awkwardly, knees and shoulders almost touching. Jared watched Jensen nervously through his bangs and squeaked a short, “Hi,” at him which would have been adorable to Jensen under normal circumstances, but right now just served to confuse Jensen further. It wasn’t the action of an abuser.

 

Misha clapped his hands for attention, which was over the top but felt right, so he went with it and it got him the attention he needed.

 

“I’ll keep this short and to the point. There’s no evidence of assault on Caitlin.” He shushed Jensen with a hand motion. “There was every reason for Mr. Ackles to believe that she was being assaulted, and he was right to act in the circumstances. Those circumstances being that Jay’s an idiot who should have had some sort of neighborly conversation BEFORE this happened.”

 

Jared opened his mouth, about to protest, but all that came out was a small, defeated, “Yeah, had that coming.”

 

“So. Detective Jensen Ackles meet Jared Padalecki, architect, owner and resident of this building, also guardian and sponsor for Caitlin Doe, and apparently prize idiot. I’m going to suggest that you two get properly acquainted, in a civil manner, after we leave. I’m recommending that the conversation covers the nature of Caitlin’s illness, with its related symptoms and complications. Jensen, you may want to reassure Jared that you won’t be shooting anyone anytime soon, and organize a new door. So you are aware Jensen, Jared is not a pimp. Neither would he secure the services of a female hooker, he doesn’t swing that way. Of this I am sure, just don’t ask me how. I’m going home. I’ll let the Doc say his goodbyes.”

 

Misha leaned over and winked conspiratorially at Jared, “Since I’m now off duty and on my own dollar, can I just say that you two make a very pretty couple. Maybe you should get on with it already.”

 

“Mish!” Jared blushed beetroot as the Detective grabbed his coat and stalked out of the door chuckling. Jensen tried to think of a smartarse reply but couldn’t find one. He flushed a pale pink instead, and flashed a quick look at Jared who grinned shyly back at him.

 

“You know him?” Jensen asked.

 

“What can I say? I spend far too much time at the Precinct.”

 

The Doc interrupted him, “It really was only a nightmare that you heard Mr. Ackles. In brief I treat Caitlin for severe post traumatic illness. We have no idea what the precise trauma was, except that her physical scars are extensive and around a year old. She suffers from multiple personality disorder and the personalities we’ve  identified so far, have no recollection beyond 6 months ago. Sometimes she simply isn’t Caitlin, and then Jared has to deal with it. Generally, he’s excellent at keeping her level and coping with outbursts. At times it includes a rapid retreat from public spaces or the use of restraints. He’s better than most of my staff, he has to be, because I’ve staked my reputation that Caitlin won’t hurt anyone while she’s in his care. If there is _any_ instance of violence by Caitlin, I am required to take immediate action. I would be obliged to section her to a secure unit. The screaming nightmare is a new thing, it may be the start of memories returning, but we’ll see.”

 

Jared looked up at the doctor with hope, “Really. You think she may be coming back?”

 

Doc Carver replied softly, “Don’t depend on it Jay, but sometimes yeah. At the very least, I think you had a glimpse at a different personality today.”

 

“Oh wow!”

 

“Jay these memories are going to be painful. God knows what they’ll do to her.” He patted Jared on the shoulder as the big man deflated and fresh worry appeared on Jared’s brow. “We’ll pull her through it. Okay.”

 

Jensen watched Jared as the conversation progressed. He was fascinated by the sheer love and care that the big guy generated and the obvious worry as the doctor explained the pitfalls. Jensen wondered how he didn’t recognize the good in the man and he knew with certainty he had been wrong in his accusation. He’d seen it on the floor of the bedroom as Jared refused to leave Caitlin, even with a gun trained on him. Jensen wanted to take his hand and squeeze it in his own, say sorry, hug Jared and take his worries away. Instead he chewed at his bottom lip and mumbled an apology.

 

“I am so sorry man, for the gun and the door and all y’know?” He fell silent and then the breath was knocked out of him as strong arms circled him and Jared’s face rested on his shoulder in a tight bear hug.

 

“Dude, my fault totally. I should’ve come and seen you the first day you arrived. It should be me apologizing. M’sorry too.”

 

Jared hadn’t thought the hug through, just did it impulsively. He felt guilty for the worry he had caused Jensen, especially now he knew his tenant had personal worries of his own. As he squeezed him tight, it occurred to Jared that Jensen may be uncomfortable with it. He breathed in, savoring the spicy musk smell of the older man before extricating himself with a faint brush against the hint of morning stubble. The hug felt good.

 

Jensen was a little shocked by the hug but it felt good. Jared smelled of candy and soap and his arms felt warm, muscular and safe. He bit back a whimper as Jared pulled away from him.

 

The Doctor was speaking again, “I cannot believe it is 6 a.m. and I’m standing here in pajamas. You boys should get some sleep. You need to talk to each other later. Jared, I will take care of Caitlin. If you ring before Monday morning I’ll refuse to take the call. You have to rest to be in any shape to deal with her. Call me Monday and we’ll organize an appointment. Jensen, don’t let him fret and remember you need rest too. Oh, and Jensen, as the PD’s Consultant Psych I’ve taken the liberty of putting you on my books. My secretary will call you with an appointment. Don’t miss it.” 


	10. New Dawn

The doctor showed himself out. There was the sound of curious voices at the door, JD, Ellen and Jo could be heard asking after them and about Caitlin. The doc’s reply was too quiet for them to hear, but they could clearly hear the noise of them all departing and their footsteps on the stairs, as they returned to the third floor.

 

Jared and Jensen were left on their own, sitting together, on a cramped sofa, in a silent apartment with a broken door. They were both struggling to work out what came next.

 

“I should, er, my babies they’ll be.... I should probably go see to them. I um. Are you? I mean, do you want to come home with me? Oh no! I mean for coffee.” Jared’s hazel eyes were fixed on Jensen’s face as he attempted to utter a full sentence.  

 

Jensen was looking at him, a faint smile playing on his full pink lips and for a moment he reached his hand toward Jared as if to hold the younger man’s hand. At the last moment it changed direction and Jensen scratched at the stubble on his own chin. 

 

Jared took a deep breath and composed himself before speaking again, “It’s about time I’d be getting up anyhow. I figure I’ll grab a strong coffee and go walk my dogs.”

 

Jensen chuckled faintly, “Dude, its 6 a.m., it’s Sunday, are you mad?”

 

“I guess I’m a bit of a morning person. I like sunrise. The local park, on a fine morning, there’s a lake and you can see reflections of the sun and trees on the water. It’s awesome. Then the ducks wake up and are like ‘feed me’ ‘feed me’. They waddle after me like I’m the pied piper or something, then Harley or Sadie will get all excited and bark at them, and they’ll fly up and splash back down on the water and the reflection of the sunrise goes all rippled.” Jared paused for breath, realizing he was rambling.

 

“Come with me?” he asked, and then bit his lip, his eyes briefly resting on Jensen’s cane. He wondered what injuries Jensen was carrying and whether he was even able to consider Jared’s offer.

 

Jensen had never enjoyed mornings, never considered dawn a good time of the day to be awake, but Jared’s eyes sparkled, and his enthusiasm was infectious. Jensen thought that sunrise on this Sunday could be the most beautiful sight ever, but only if Jared was a part of it. His keen eye caught the flicker of discomfort as Jared glanced at his stick. It had taken a while to adjust to the reaction of others to his disability, and times like this, he just felt guilty for making them uncomfortable. He was quick to reassure the taller man, “Yeah. I think I’d like that. My physiotherapist would think it’s a fabulous idea. So where’s that coffee you promised? ‘Cause you know that tea earlier sucked.”

 

“You made that tea,” Jared ribbed.

 

“Yeah, and it sucked.”

 

“Yep, it did.” When Jared laughed it was full, throaty and full of dimples and Jensen smiled too.

 

****

 

Weak sunlight shone low through the trees in the park. Leaves scattered and crunched as Jared and Jensen strolled along the path by the lake. Up ahead Harley and Sadie gamboled, sniffed and wagged their tails with enthusiasm.

 

Dawn had been rich with pink, green and purple hues, reflecting on low scudding clouds and casting color into the depths of the lake. It had been everything Jared had promised Jensen and more. They walked, shoulder to shoulder, deep in their own thoughts and memories. An unexpected streak of grey fur dashed from one of the trees and Jensen almost tripped on the squirrel that then attempted to climb Jared’s leg.

 

“Hey fella,” Jared spoke uncharacteristically quietly and produced some seed from his pocket, which the squirrel snatched and proceeded to stuff into its cheeks. Jared crouched down and hand fed more seed mix to the bushy-tailed creature. “You should be hibernating by now, but this is good, you get to meet Jensen.”

 

 

Jared handed some seed to Jensen, “Just hold it out, he doesn’t bite. Secret Squirrel meet Jensen Ackles, who points guns at people. Jensen this is Secret Squirrel, a particular and fine, furry friend of mine.”

 

Jensen arched his eyebrow at Jared. Jared just shrugged.

 

“We, Chris and I, found him here one morning. He was still a kitten and something had taken a chunk from him, but he was still breathing. You can’t leave that alone y’know. So we took him home. So, he mended and Chris said we couldn’t keep him. Which I kinda knew, but he was cute and little and I wanted to, but Chris was right, so here he is. I think he’s happy here, got himself a girlfriend and maybe he’ll have kittens in the spring.”

 

Secret stuffed his cheeks until they were full, allowed Jared to softly brush his tail with his huge hand, then rushed off, to hide his stash, as quickly as he had arrived.

 

“Chris always said I picked up too many strays. He got so frustrated with me. I guess he was right.” The brunette spoke to no-one in particular, as if he had forgotten that Jensen was present.

 

“Ex?” said Jensen softly.

 

“We were together awhile.” Jared’s expression was distant, “S’funny, I guess he was one of my strays. Stupid, really. A one night stand that got out of hand.”

 

Jensen thought he had never seen anyone look as indescribably sad as Jared at that moment. He turned in toward Jared, closing the distance between them and placed his hand briefly on Jared’s shoulder.

 

“Thanks.” Jared sniffed slightly at the comfort being offered, “How about you? Any great romance stories for you to publish in your old age?” It was then that the architect noticed it, the thin band of gold that Jensen was twisting, the deep frown of pain on Jensen’s face.

 

“I was married. It was good. We were good together. I used to take flowers, but he never really liked them. Used to make him sneeze and it’s just a cold hole in the ground anyway. He’s not there, was gone even before he died.”

 

Jared wasn’t sure he understood the words but the tears were unmistakable.

 

He looped his long arm around Jensen’s shoulder and pulled him close, letting Jensen lean against him and they walked back to Madison House Mansions pressed against each others' side.

 

 

****

 

Jensen swirled the lunch dishes in soapy water while Jared wiped. He studied the foam as it formed shapes, then broke up and reformed. He reflected on the previous night’s events and wondered what he was doing, still with Jared, doing domestic things, in his apartment, hours after the police and Doctor had left them sitting together. He specifically wondered how he had become so comfortable in the tall man’s company, so very quickly. He surmised that it was a characteristic unique to Jared. Jared picked up strays. Maybe Jensen qualified as one of those strays.

 

“This apartment is amazing Jared,” Jensen spoke up. He had been impressed when he first walked through the door, but as he got used to it, details like the way the lighting was arranged became obvious.

 

“Thanks. This building was one of my first. I got to try lots of ideas here, especially with this apartment. It was always going to be mine, so I could afford to make mistakes. I can give you the tour if you like.”

 

“Like, the _private tour_?” Jensen licked his lips and smirked, an old habit from years of double entendres on the Force.

 

Jared shifted uneasily, “Oh. I meant there are features you might not expect. Follow me.” He walked out of the kitchen and across the living room, to the paneled library area. He snagged a catch within one of the shelves and the shelf unit swung away, forming a door, “My office,” he announced.

 

Jensen whistled. The architect’s office had clean lines and natural light that infused the space through frosted glass. The furniture was over-sized, like its owner, and constructed in pure wooden tones and soft leather. There was an optional sliding panel to the inner office, where floor-plans, elevations and photographs coated the walls, and elegant wall-shelves held miniature scale models of buildings with stick figures and tiny trees. There was a small lobby with a coat-stand and mailbox that led to a main door onto the sidewalk. Jensen vaguely remembered walking past the corner office, wondering about its place in the mostly residential district. He remembered the plain black door plate. He had never read the inscription.

 

“I wanted to work from home but I also wanted to separate my work and home life,” Jared explained.

 

“It’s incredible Jared. Are all your buildings like this?”

 

“God, no! Budgets and physical constraints, but I like to do what I can with what I’ve got. C’mon, there’s something else you need to see.”

 

Jared led him back to the corridor and opened a door which looked like it led into a cupboard. Jared stepped back to let him peer in. There was a spiral staircase leading up to the second floor. Jared swung up the stairs and pushed a side-panel that opened a door at the top. “You coming?”

 

As the door behind him swung closed Jensen realized that he was in Caitlin’s apartment. Jared’s jaw was set tensely and he was looking at Jensen seriously. “I guess this would be a good place to start explaining Caitlin.” He pointed to the door that had slammed shut behind them.

 

“Caitlin’s apartment is an extension of mine. This door opens from my apartment, so I can get here quickly in an emergency, but it doesn’t open from this side. Caitlin can’t get into my apartment without my knowledge.” He continued through, pointing at the kitchen, “There are no knives or sharp objects in this home, even the mirrors are shatter-proof. The windows are toughened and locked.” He opened the door to the master-bedroom, “There is an intercom device which is switched on at night or any other time. It can be switched off from this room, but we have an agreement.”

 

“And this?” Jensen pointed to a locked wall cupboard in the corridor

 

“It’s a meds cabinet. There are three keys, I have one, the doc has one and Misha has the other. The room next to it is the safe room.” Jensen opened the solid door, noting the fish-eye viewing lens and outside lock. The walls were solid but padded and there was a simple cot bed and blankets. Jared sat on the bed and lifted the soft restraints for Jensen to see. “Generally they don’t bruise but if someone struggles enough then they will.” Jared looked up into green-gold eyes, searching for understanding and was rewarded with a slow nod of Jensen’s head.

 

There was a moment of silence and Jensen felt the need to fill it, “So what’s with the plants in the hall?” He asked.

 

“Oh. You noticed that? It’s like a mood indicator. Plant to the left of the door means Caitlin is fine and feeling up to having company. Plant to the right of the door, she’s fine but would rather be alone. Plants all over the place means she’s rearranging everything, which means she’s stressed!” He looked slightly embarrassed, “Works though.”

 

“I’ll try to remember it all.”

 

“We should have a beer,” Jared changed the subject abruptly, rubbing at his temples “I’ve got some in my fridge. We should go back and finish this.”

 

Jensen recognized the strain in Jared’s features and understood that, for whatever reason, this topic was difficult for him.

 

“Sure.”

 

****

 

The beer was cool and welcome. Jared stretched out on one of his over-sized couches and elongated his neck to drink, lips closed about the rim of the bottle. His soft hair fell back as he did so and Jensen practically choked on his own beer as his eyes were drawn to the sight. His memories of the previous night’s encounter with Mark were fresh in his mind and the comparison too close. He fought to maintain his cool by mentally reciting multiplication tables and was relieved when Jared dropped the bottle back onto the coffee table.

 

Jared closed his eyes, as if composing his thoughts and started to speak.

 

“Jeff, my older brother, is, no was, a paranoid schizophrenic. He was brilliant, so clever, but whatever he did, this illness, it shattered him. He wasn’t violent. In a bad bout he would be crazy, loud and scary and he would frighten people. Sometimes the police would be called, and they’d call me. It became a sort of routine, the good days and bad, and the awful days when he would try to kill himself. I built this apartment, the safe room, everything for him. On the good days he could be independent, on the bad days I would be here for him. On the really awful days I would admit him to Glenview Psychiatric Hospital with Doc Carver.”

 

Jared stopped, tensed up and placed his head in his hands.

 

“You okay?”

 

“Not really.”

 

Jensen slid off the couch he was on and sat down next to the younger man. He placed his hand on Jared’s back and rubbed gently. “I’m not sure what this has to do with Caitlin, Jared.”

 

“You can call me Jay,” His voice was quiet and broken up.

 

“So, Jay?”

 

“I got Chris and he didn’t understand and I got selfish,” he whispered. “I didn’t see how it affected Jeff, and he went off the deep end, so I put him in Glenview.”

 

Jensen didn’t comment, just let him continue.

 

“I would visit and after a while it seemed okay. He told me about a new girl called Caitlin. How she was helping him and I was grateful for that, Doc Carver’s staff working their magic. I thought he should come back, I told him he would come back soon, but it’s never that easy and he frightened Chris, so I kept visiting and putting it off. Then one day I told the Doc how grateful I was for putting Caitlin with him and he had to explain the truth to me. Caitlin was a patient, a patient for chrissakes and the doc had no idea there was a relationship going on.

 

“Caitlin never spoke to anyone, never actively participated in therapy, was scared of everyone except, Jeff, with whom she would have quiet conversations in corners. She was in for observation. Apparently she was found holding the knife, next to her stabbed pimp and attacked a cop while being arrested. By all accounts she's a real psycho and a joy with a knife. Caitlin isn't even her real name. She was named after a celebrity cook, who hosts a show she always watched on the ward. Nobody has a clue what her name is.

 

“I was furious with Jeff and told him to stop whatever it was that was going on and he was furious back. When we worked through it, he asked me to meet her, so I did. And you know, I kind of liked her. Caitlin is sweet, gentle, incredibly bright, obviously well educated, but permanently scared, of just about everyone. I would go visit Jeff and gradually she started to speak to me too. Jeff was having some good days and I wanted him back here. Chris wasn’t so keen. He wanted to move in here with me, but not with Jeff too.” Jared took a long shuddering breath before continuing.

 

“Chris went to visit Jeff on his own, to explain the ‘stress’ that caring for him caused me. Jeff listened to him and asked to be kept in Glenview, under his own instruction, which he could do. When Chris came to me to tell me what he had done and what Jeff had arranged, that was when I finally woke up and told Chris we were finished. I chose my brother.”

 

Jensen watched as tears gathered at the edge of Jared’s eyes and he took another swig from his bottle. “It was too late. Jeff finally managed to kill himself. While Chris was here, with me, he signed himself out. As a voluntary patient he could do that too. He threw himself in front of a train. Chris still left me. I lost both of them.”

 

He blinked his hazel eyes, squeezing tears away.

 

“What I gained was Caitlin. Jeff left a note for me. It didn’t say much. Sorry for being a pain in the ass big brother. Sorry he couldn’t carry on. Please don’t let them lock Caitlin away forever. Please look after Caitlin and don’t let anyone hurt her again. Of course, I’m no expert and there was nothing I could do about Caitlin, but Doc Carver had seen the note and that’s where things got complicated.”

 

Jared was back on track now, his tears dried and Jensen stilled the massage and rested his hand gently on the nape of Jared’s neck.

 

“Caitlin’s observation period was almost over. Doc Carver had made his diagnosis and no-one was found to identify her or take responsibility for her. He told me he was classifying her as a vulnerable adult with capacity for harming others and requiring supervised treatment. Perhaps he shouldn’t have discussed her with me, but I was one of the few people she would confide in, and she gave her permission. Doc Carver was worried about her future. With nobody to take responsibility for her whereabouts and meds, the only available option was to have her formally committed to an institution. Since there was nobody to fund her stay in private facilities, the state would be allowed to choose. In her case there’s a proven attack on a cop, a suspected attack on a pimp and recent history of prostitution. The preference was for a secure unit attached to a prison. Unless...”

 

Jared laughed a little maniacally here, “Unless the Doc could find a suitable guardian and sponsor who would take responsibility for Caitlin. So, there I was with open access to her medical exams and her diagnosis and that’s where it got impossible to say no, because whatever she has done in her confused state, it is _nothing_ compared to what medical evidence shows she’s been through.” Jared’s face became animated, impassioned, “and while everyone from the DA’s office to the FBI and police have been running around trying to find out what other crimes she may have committed, and by the way, they’ve found none, NO-ONE seems to give a SHIT about finding out who the fuck did what the fuck to her, or even helping her to discover her own identity. So, yeah. I got upset, I got busy and I got Caitlin. It’s no walk in the park. There’s days I could just give up, put her back in the hospital, but then other days she has my back too. Little things like pretending to be my secretary when I’m too ill with flu to get to the phone, and sitting the dogs when I’m out.”

 

“So, for the record the woman we call Caitlin has multiple personality disorder. It’s the Docs opinion that it was the mind’s way to protect itself from the abuse she suffered while she was confined and bound for a significant period of time. Jensen, you saw the scars on her wrists, it wasn’t an overnight kink thing. She disassociated to hide her core personality from the horror she experienced during torture, and possibly afterwards, when she was on the streets. It’s not schizophrenia, all her personalities are real and belong to her, what we see are the extreme parts of herself and other pieces that ‘get her through’ her life.”

 

“According to the doc there are likely to be other personalities, including her core, which will know the answers to who she is and what happened, but it’s buried pretty deep. She needs time, safety and help to get there. In the meantime, we know three of her alter egos. Caitlin is her dominant personality. She’s all that I said before funny, kind, brilliant and a social disaster, agoraphobic and scared of everything but with no clue why. Caitlin’s memories start at Glenview.”

 

“Then there’s Jane.” Jared grinned slightly, “Jane you’ve sort of met. She’s sassy, sexy, brassy, kinky and a whole lot self-destructive, she’s also a prostitute. Her memories go back about 6 months to around May. She’s talkative, and most of what we know of that 6 months comes from her. Jane has no idea who I am or who the Doc is, but she’ll always talk.”

 

“Then there’s Emma. Emma is the reason I wouldn’t let you touch Caitlin when she was dreaming. Emma is vicious. She is psychotic, strong and devious. As far as we can tell Emma is what happens when Caitlin or Jane feel threatened. Course there’s no way of really telling because Emma curses, she doesn’t talk. She’s the stab you first type of girl.”

 

Jared’s voice lowered a little, “I’ve only seen Emma once. It was after therapy, the day I met you and Jane was confused and scared. I have to tell you, I did see it coming and I did deal with it but maybe not in the best way. I never meant for you to take any flak for my actions. I never even thought about it. I know you’re her neighbor, and I should have warned you. You can choose to move out if you like, I’ll reimburse the deposit and the movers, but honestly, I think I know her moods. I promise I would never put anyone in danger, and I'm not going to give up on her. She has to have someone looking out for her. I won’t do to her, what I did to Jeff. I can’t.”

 

Jared turned to look Jensen in those steady green eyes, his hazel eyes pleading, lip quivering slightly. “I know I’ve been an idiot, I know you haven’t seen the best of Jo and Ellen or Caitlin. I know you have your own problems. I can’t even promise tranquil nights, but please say you’ll give us a chance. I think you’ll fit in around here. I think you’d like us, if you gave us a chance.”

 

Jensen didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone speak so long or passionately about another person.

 

Jared thought Jensen had been incredibly quiet while he had spoken. He’d never known anyone to listen so intently without interrupting, except maybe Caitlin, who did it for all the wrong reasons.

 

Jensen stopped his caress of Jared’s neck. Jared felt the loss immediately and steeled himself for Jensen’s answer.

 

“You know I do kind of like JD, so maybe I shouldn’t run away too soon. Besides, I’d miss the cakes. Cake is always a good distraction from psychotic neighbor issues.” Jensen said, with the trademark smirk that Jared was getting to like.

 

He followed up by leaning across to Jared with a small sigh. He brushed his fingers through the thick brunette hair, then followed the motion along the architect’s cheekbone and along his chin. He swept his fingers across the beautiful wide lips, pressing just enough to part them. He tilted Jared’s chin slightly, so when he dipped in to brush his lips against the wide red mouth and suck gently on his bottom lip, the effect was soft yet electric. Jared moaned and pushed back against Jensen’s mouth, tongue searching out Jensen’s tongue, tangling with it. They buried their hands in each other’s hair and kissed, passionate yet gentle till they both needed to take a breath. They let go simultaneously, panting slightly and Jensen whispered in Jared’s ear.

 

“I’ll help you find her. Will you let me help?” He nuzzled Jared’s earlobe, nipping gently.

 

Jared sat upright and looked at Jensen, startled and wide eyed. “Do you really mean that? Can you do that?”

 

“What can I say? I’m a badass detective. I can do it, as long as it doesn’t involve any running.” He gestured to his cane, “Of course the stick does double up as 007’s Aston Martin, so we should be safe.” He punched Jared playfully in the arm. “Now, since we already have the beer, please tell me that your impressive plasma screen television is able to get the NFL that starts in five minutes.”

 

“And candy.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“We should have candy. Hang on.”

 

The younger man clicked the television onto the sports channel and fumbled through the kitchen, returning to sit beside Jensen with lurid lime-green and orange candy strips, a packet of potato chips and two more beers.

 

“Oh yes,” Jensen grinned.

 

“Heaven,” Jared agreed.

 

The first advert break found Jared curled up against Jensen’s shoulder, both men fast asleep on the couch with Harley and Sadie stretched contentedly at their feet.


	11. Chapter 11

 

 

Jared woke to Sadie’s insistent whimper. He cracked open one eye and gazed at her wearily, “What do you want girl?” She snickered in high pitch doggy joy and her entire body wagged with her tail. She didn’t leap on his lap in her usual dizzy display of affection and it took a moment for the architect to realize that her space was occupied by a sleeping Jensen, arms and legs tangled with his own.

 

He yawned and lifted Jensen's limbs carefully, unwilling to wake him yet. He stared at the older man’s relaxed face, taking in his strong jaw line, peppered with stubble that hadn’t been shaved since Saturday morning. His freckles stood out on smooth creamy skin and Jared wanted to trace his fingers over them, count them one by one till he reached those plump, pink, heart shaped lips. Jensen’s hair was mussed and Jared wondered if that was what it would look like after sex.

 

“God, Padalecki! Get a grip.”

 

He stood and stretched and Harley padded to heel, “Hey boy, you two hungry? C’mon then but ssshhh, don’t wake Sleeping Beauty.” For once he didn’t wind his babies up and they followed him quietly, till their paws were clicking on the cold kitchen floor, anticipating their evening meal.

 

Jared spooned the meat from a can and let the dogs dig in enthusiastically. He leaned with his back against the counter which afforded him a view of Jensen sprawled on his sofa. The scene was homey. When he thought back through the day, the whole thing felt intimate and oddly domestic, which was crazy, because they barely knew each other.

 

What he did know, was that Jensen had cried about a love he was still mourning. He understood a band of gold that hadn’t been removed, tears for a cold dark grave and flowers which didn’t express what couldn’t be voiced.

 

Jared felt a familiar grip of hunger for companionship, a life that he didn’t deserve and couldn’t sustain. He let himself stare at the beautiful man in his home and commit to memory what he knew he had to push away. Then, he gathered his resolve and let his heart break, spilling poisonous shards that sliced into his soul.

 

The time on the kitchen clock was 9 p.m. Jared considered his dogs, realizing they needed to be taken out. He switched off the TV, sneaked into his bedroom and changed into running gear. He wrote a short note and left it on the coffee table for Jensen to see when he woke. Pausing for a moment, he grabbed a woolen throw from the other couch and arranged it over Jensen, tucking it delicately under his chin. He let his fingers linger on the stubble-roughened jaw for a moment longer than was strictly necessary, before turning his telephone to the loudest setting and placing it beside Jensen. He gathered his babies to heel and left his apartment.

 

The pace that Jared set for his run was punishing, and the distance farther than normal. Harley and Sadie were starting to tire as Jared rounded the far, dark edge of the park. He slowed and leaned over to fuss over his dogs, clutching at the stitch in his side and breathing heavily. In the corner of his vision he noted shadowy figures gathered by the nearby public toilets, a bright orange light flared briefly, momentarily lighting an angular male face before fading into the round red glow of burning tobacco.

 

Jared straightened, taking in the sight of a ragged, weather-beaten man on a bench. He whistled his dogs back to heel and ran on, across the road and down an alley, where an all night fast-food van spilled a warm, hazy light over the sidewalk.

 

Jared returned to the bench carrying two coffees and hotdogs. The tramp shifted over and lifted his blanket-roll to make a space. The tall man sat heavily and proffered a coffee and hotdog to the homeless man before speaking.

 

“Hey, Hal.”

 

Sadie and Harley collapsed in relief pushing wet noses first onto Jared’s lap and then Hal’s, until they were rewarded with the comforting rub of their ears and heads from a weather-worn and calloused hand.

 

Hal warmed the other gnarled hand on his cup and blew tendrils of curling steam away from the froth. His brow wrinkled slightly over pale blue eyes, his expression one of friendly concern.

 

“Jay. It’s been a while.”

 

“A year, give or take.”

 

“I thought you must have fallen in love and settled down.”

 

“Yeah, me too Hal.” He cracked a broken grin at the old man next to him, “I guess you still take mustard on your dogs.” He handed his own hotdog to the man by his side. “Here, I’m not as hungry as I thought, and I’ve a call to make.”

 

Jared dialed the number three times, letting it click into answer-phone each time, before hanging up without leaving a message.

 

“Wake-up call,” he said to the clearly puzzled Hal, who was chewing steadily on the food he‘d been given.

 

Hal sipped his coffee slowly, exchanging small talk and local gossip with the younger man. He watched as Jared flicked his eyes over to the movement and quiet murmurs in the shadows.

 

“You want me to hold on to your babies for you?”

 

“Would you do that for me?”

 

“I always did Son, didn’t I?”

 

“But you don't approve.”

 

“It’s never been for me to judge you. I done some pretty stupid things in my life.” He grinned, toothless and genuine, at the young man. “You gonna be safe?”

 

“Always.”

 

“You want to leave your phone too? Give you twenty minutes?”

 

“What would I do without you, Hal?” Jared said humorlessly before telling his dogs to ‘stay’ then bowing his head and disappearing into the shadows.

 

Hal shook his head and took up vigil with Harley and Sadie.

 

***

 

Jensen woke to the sound of a phone ringing loudly, and Jared’s recorded voice asking the caller to leave a message. He was alone on Jared’s couch with a woolen throw tucked neatly over him. Soft lamplight illuminated the room. He felt warm and safe and would have returned to sleep if the phone hadn’t rung twice more, message clicking in twice more. Damn he hated phones.

 

“Jay!” he called but the apartment was eerily quiet.

 

He pushed himself to sit up, which is when he saw the note on the coffee table.

 

Jensen

I didn’t want to wake the sleeping beauty but I have a date tonight. I’ve taken the mutts with me. I’ll be getting back real late so don’t worry about waiting up. You can close the door as you leave, I have my keys and it’s self-locking. Help yourself to anything in my fridge if you need it.

Jared

 

Jensen was glad that Jared wasn’t there to see his reaction because he couldn’t pretend that the written words hadn’t stung. A date? Jared hadn’t mentioned a boyfriend. He had seemed just as eager as himself when they kissed, but Jensen knew that he had initiated the contact. He didn’t know why he expected any more from Jay, he barely knew him.

 

The note was clear and put him in his place. It had been a good day, and now he was dismissed as casually as a babysitter or maid. He eased himself to his feet and made his way back to his own bed on the second floor.


	12. Chapter 12

 

“You know what pisses me off?” Jared stomped the mud off his feet harder than necessary as he entered the site office.

 

“Did you need to see me?” the Building Supervisor worriedly cut in.

 

“Well you might want to be here when I fire your asses.” Jared knew he was being bitchy but he simply didn’t care.

 

“Problem?”

 

“You take time to put in a bid for this job. You convince me you’re a professional crew and deserve a chance. Then you get here and your men have no understanding of the contract and are using the incorrect panels. That’s annoying enough but really no reason for you to try to kill ‘em on an incomplete scaffold.” Jared stopped breathless after his tirade, realizing that he was looming over the Building Supervisor in an aggressive stance. Woah! Calm down Padalecki.

 

There was the scuffling sound of someone else behind him, and Jared turned to see Steve looking apprehensively at him. “I’ve tagged the scaffold. No-one will use it until I re-inspect it with their guy. I came in to check their documents.”

 

Jared moved aside to let him through, then continued.

 

“You’ve got a day to remove the panels and order in the ones you specified.”

 

“But…”

 

“You can use as many men as you like, I don’t care, but it doesn’t impact on the rest of the site, and it doesn’t make its way to an invoice as an extra. ONE day.”

 

Jared left the office, stomping as loudly on the way out, as on the way in.

 

“Fucking faggot.”

 

Jared heard the muttered insult and stopped. He refused to backtrack, he was too angry to risk getting close to the man. “I’m the fucking faggot that delivers what he says he will, when he says he will. I’m the fucking faggot that can get you fired from this site and choose never to give work to your Company again. I’m the fucking faggot that can explain to your employer the exact reason why you’ve been fired.” He didn’t look back or wait for reply before walking on.

 

The Building Supervisor waited until the architect was out of sight before taking the opportunity to moan at Steve about the tall man’s attitude. Steve shrugged and refused to be drawn in. “Hey. Independent here! Will you get the files for me?” He settled himself comfortably by the side of the desk and added “I’ve worked a lot of sites with him. You know, when someone is described as a cut-throat businessman, you might consider ways to avoid it being your throat he cuts next.”

 

Jared packed up to leave site at lunchtime, loading his SUV and removing his hard hat, shaking his brunette hair free. The presence of Steve opening his passenger- door was unexpected.

 

“Need a lift down the street?”

 

“Nope. Need to treat you to lunch. Just drive. I’m cravin’ Mexican.”

 

“Client needs an architect?” Jared glanced over as he was driving.

 

“No Jay. More like, architect needs to talk because his friend is dead worried about him.”

 

“Oh.”

 

The tacos were quite tasty but Jared would have to remember not to breathe on anybody in his afternoon meeting.

 

“So what’s going on Jay? And don’t say ‘nothing’, because everyone gets three strikes before they’re out, and strike one has always been the puppy eyes. I’m not saying he didn’t deserve it. He’s an asshole and I’m pretty sure he’s been put on this so he does screw up and they have the ammunition to fire him.”

 

“Fair warning, Steve, thanks.”

 

“It doesn’t get you out of the original question though. You’re miserable, you’ve been asking me bizarre questions, and then there’s this,” he pushed a document envelope at him. “I’ve never known you to make a mistake in the documents you send out”

 

Jared tugged the documents out revealing a bid and risk assessment he had put together a few weeks earlier.

 

“The client asked me to comment on the risk assessments, or I’d never have seen it.” Steve spoke as he separated the documents out.

 

Jared saw the piece of paper straight away. Hand drawn, neat but not scaled, it was a floor plan. It looked like the basement and crawl space of a hospital, but Jared had never seen it before.

 

“This isn’t mine. The client must have mixed it in.”

 

“It was a sealed bid, I was there when it was opened Jay. How can it not be yours?”

 

He looked closer, frowning in confusion, but the building layout was alien to him. There was just _something_ about it…Caitlin’s writing! It was her clear precise lettering in blue ink from her fountain pen. He stared for a while longer. There was more bothering him about the drawing, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He put it down and apologized. “Sorry, looks like I’m not infallible. If it helps, I don’t think its top secret, just a doodle.”

 

The architect had been wracking his brain to remember when the bid had been posted, eventually recalling the day he had spent in bed with the flu. Caitlin had manned the phones and looked after him. He had moaned that the bid was important and she had announced that it was better if she printed it out and sent it, as was, than it not get submitted at all. With a soaring temperature and muddled mind he had reluctantly agreed. “It’s Caitlin,” he explained, looking over at his friend.

 

“You’ve got Crazy Girl working for you? Jay, that is SO not good for business.”

 

“She just helped out that day. I was ill.”

 

“When did she get her memory back?”

 

“That’s the thing Steve,” and Jared stared at the paperwork in front of him, “She hasn’t. She’s back in Glenview and I don’t think she has any idea that she’s done this.”

 

“Is her being in Glenview anything to do with the epic bad mood you were in earlier?”

 

“Ugh. I suppose some of it. Come on though Steve, you were furious about the scaffold so I followed your lead on that.”

 

“Yeah well I was in a bad temper because the wife banned me from the house tonight. Its Monday night football and she decided she needs a girl’s night in. No notice or anything. Just, ‘I need a break. Stay out!’ ”

 

Jared started to laugh and couldn’t stop, feeling tension releasing in his shoulders.

 

“Steve, how about you, me, the guys, football and beer, at my place tonight? I only ask one favor, do not, under any circumstances, let me get drunk and jump the new neighbor’s bones. I do not need that complication right now.”

 

“Is there any danger of it?”

 

He groaned, “Hell yeah, and it would be an incredibly bad idea, leading to an even more extreme bad mood.”

 

“Okay then. Note to self. Keep you away from pretty new neighbor.”

 

“I really have to get going. Thanks for the heads-up Steve. I promise I will be sweet, kind and give away free fluffy kittens to everyone.”

 

***

Jensen scowled at the computer as he checked the final page. He hated DIY. Whoever thought it a good idea to have him edit ‘The Single Person’s Guide to DIY’ was out of their mind. It had taken all his willpower to stop himself from inserting an additional reference that linked to an internet site on the pleasures of masturbation. He sighed as he finished and mailed it back.

 

Opening a fresh tab, Jensen googled the words amnesia and post traumatic stress. He opened a fresh notebook and started to list references. Glancing at the sidewalk he was surprised to see a red faced Jo Harvelle being pulled along by Jared’s mongrel hounds. He heard the thud of the main door closing and grinned at the thought of a frustrated Jo having to settle them back down in Jared’s apartment. He wondered how Jared got Jo to agree to looking after the dogs. She seemed like a single minded young lady.

 

A few minutes later, there was a tap at his door. Jensen smirked and went to answer it, without taking his gun.

 

“Hi!” Jo bounced on her heels and flashed a wide grin at him.

 

Jensen grinned back without speaking. He would let her squirm a little.

 

“So, shady JD gets invited in and I don’t?” Jo gave an exaggerated pout, but her eyes sparkled.

 

“Are you going to insult me, or throw me out of my own apartment?” deadpanned Jensen.

 

“Mum told me to apologize to you, and Jared rang and wondered if you’d like to join the gang watching football tonight. He thought I might like to apologize too, and he made me walk his stinky mutts for insulting you. So, do I get to nose around your place or not?”

 

He waved her in, “Of course, but I may have to shoot you.”

 

“Huh, I trust you, Jared explained it all, in detail, God, no wonder he charges his cell expenses to business.”

 

Jensen choked a little, “How much detail?” He pictured Jared rambling and remembered the note about his date. He certainly remembered kissing. It had been sweet, hot and wonderful, and he had spent the day considering the best way to dispose of Jay’s date, barring murder.

 

“Wow. You aren’t? You didn’t?”

 

“No. We didn’t,” Jensen stated indignantly.

 

“Oh my god, you are, aren’t you? Why are all the best ones gay? That is so unfair.”

 

“So, is Jared gay?”

 

Jo laughed, “Do you even have to ask? Jay’s sex life is hardly a secret. Officially he’ll say he’s bi, but according to Misha’s wife, their ménage a trois was very satisfying for Misha but she was like a third wheel. I don’t remember when he last had a girlfriend.”

 

“Awkward! Too-much-information, Jo.” He was going to ask if she was joking, but he remembered Detective Collins’ insistence on the matter and decided the topic was best left alone.

 

Jensen let Jo apologize. He showed her around the apartment, which must have been a disappointment because he hadn’t really changed anything except the furniture. He gave a brief overview of the publishing industry and let her return to Harvelle’s to tell Ellen he would happily accept free coffee, forever.

 

***

 

Five crowded into Jared’s living room that evening. Jared introduced Steve to Jensen and then sat on one of the couches with Steve and JD. Jensen wondered if Steve was actually Jared’s boyfriend and watched him closely from the other couch, making Steve so paranoid he kept checking to see if he had spilled something on himself. Jensen then began to wonder if Steve had a nervous tic.

 

Jensen became a little more hopeful and a lot less creepy when it became obvious that there was no intimate contact between Steve and Jared.

 

There was popcorn, beer, soda and candy. Harley and Sadie wagged tails and jumped over everybody in excitement. When JD accidentally changed channels, Jo tried to wrestle the remote from the boys so that Glee stayed on. In the ensuing melee bodies piled on top of each other. Jared reached and grabbed the remote, holding it tightly and Jensen laughed and launched himself at it. They found themselves in a tangle on the floor, Jensen astride Jared’s body holding his arms above his head. They both stilled, eyes darkening, feeling a heat between them and they flushed. Jared stared at Jensen’s lips, licking his own, while Jensen lost himself in the beautiful cat-like eyes, biting his lower lip, unable to look away.

 

Jensen gradually became conscious of his cock hardening in his pants and he was damn sure he felt more than a little interest from Jared’s. He finally remembered they had an audience and looked around, noticing Steve urgently offering him a hand up. His cane was just out of reach, so he winked at Jared and took Steve’s hand, subtly adjusting his pants with the other as he stood. “I have to get, uh some water.” He grabbed his stick and walked, as nonchalantly as possible, into the kitchen.

 

Jared acknowledged Steve and pushed himself back up. “Gonna find s’more beers,” he said as he brushed Steve off and followed Jensen into the kitchen. Steve followed Jared, hissing in his ear, “What the hell dude? Have you seen you two? You do not want to be alone with him.”

 

“I’m all grown-up, Steve”

 

“A grown-up who told me not to let you do this, Jay.”

 

“We’re not going to fuck in the kitchen, right now, okay.”

 

“Your call Jay,” Steve gave up and returned to the sofa, cheering as the Cowboys scored a touchdown.

 

Jared leaned his hip against the counter and flipped the lid off a beer, offering it to the older man before repeating the action and lifting a bottle to his own lips. Jensen swallowed as he watched him. He didn’t think he would ever be able to see Jared do that without getting a hard-on.

 

“How’s Caitlin?” Jensen asked.

 

“Not good. Doc doesn’t think she’ll be home this week. I’ll find out more tomorrow.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“S’not your fault man, honestly. She was out-of-it before you barged in.”

 

“How was your date?” Jensen decided to tackle the subject head on.

 

“It was, uh, good, fine.”

 

“Gory details? “

 

Jared gave a short sarcastic laugh, “I don’t think you really want to know, Jen.”

 

“C’mon Jay, was it romantic, were there flowers? Are you going back out together?” Jensen wondered how he had become so direct about these things. Jared had him in a whirl and tact had flown out of the window.

 

Jared saw the plea in Jensen’s eyes as he enquired about the date. He fiddled with the label on his beer until he decided a course of action and looked down into those remarkable green eyes. He almost faltered, and then found his strength, “No, not romantic, no flowers and I don’t do second dates or the morning after.” His voice was ice-cold and detached. “S’funny, I was actually thinking that Caitlin did us a favor that first day.” His chuckle was heartless, “Imagine if we'd fucked in the alley. Talk about that awkward moment when we discover we’re neighbors.”

 

The harsh change of tone took Jensen by surprise. All he could think to say was, “I’m not like that.”

 

“Sugar, with me _everyone’s_ like that.” Jared took another swig and eyed Jensen, trying not to wince at the confusion and hurt he saw in his face.

 

“Not me,” Jensen protested.

 

Jared swooped down, softly cupping Jensen’s face in his hands. He looked at those long lashes as Jensen closed his eyes. He placed a gentle, chaste kiss on the plump pink lips. He nuzzled Jensen’s neck and whispered as he felt him shudder, “And that is why we can’t ever do this.”

 

He pushed himself away from Jensen and stalked back into the living room. If anyone noticed a tear in his eye, it was surely because he felt the urge to yawn.

 

Jensen grabbed at some kitchen towel and dabbed his eyes, breathing deeply to compose himself. Steve wandered to the fridge and removed a soda. He stopped by Jensen and murmured sympathetically as he cracked it open, “It’s not you. It’s his problem to fix.” Then out loud he joked, “The Cowboys are winning, we need to get out there and celebrate,” he slapped Jensen manfully on the back and threw some popcorn at Jo and JD.

 

Jensen excused himself as soon as the game was over. Jared showed him to the door, maintaining a distance so that there could be no accidental touches.

 

“Let me know what the doc says about Caitlin tomorrow, won’t you Jay? You should give me everything you’ve got so I can get started. If it’s possible I’d like to talk to Dr. Carver, I don’t want to compromise Caitlin’s progress.”

 

“You still want to help?” Jared looked shocked.

 

“Why wouldn’t I, Jay?”

 

“I don’t want a relationship. We’re not having sex, Jensen.” The brunette sounded perplexed.

 

“I do get that you know. It’s called friendship, Jared. I’ll hook up with you tomorrow okay.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I choose to.”

 

Jensen didn’t want to think about his emotions or about the lack of understanding on Jared’s face when he had offered his friendship. Then there was the guilt, because Jensen had said he wasn’t like that, had implied that he didn’t have casual sex, but he’d lied, he was worse. He’d paid to have sex with a hooker, just three nights earlier.

 

He swallowed down sleeping tablets with a glass of Jack. 


	13. Dream State

 

The receptionist placed Doc Carver’s drink on his desk and collected the small pile of signed paperwork.

 

“Jared Padalecki is here for his appointment. He’s brought another gentleman with him, a Mr. Ackles.

 

Ben Carver didn‘t look surprised.

 

“He was wondering if you could make some time to see them together. Apparently Mr. Ackles has volunteered to conduct some research into Caitlin’s identity. The permission paperwork, for her files, is here and correct. I can postpone your 3 p.m. for half an hour if it helps.”

 

“Do that Doris, thanks. You can send them in now.”

***

Caitlin was brought into the bright conservatory to meet with Jared. The Doc asked Jensen to stay. He was interested to see if she would recognize any of them. Jared chatted for a while, reintroduced himself and Jensen, and then rambled about the weather, Harley, Sadie and home. After a few minutes, his eyes misted a little and he had to accept what the Doc had already told him. Caitlin, or whatever personality stood here, wouldn’t acknowledge his presence, she was lost and unresponsive.

***

_She quite liked this dream. There was no blood. She had checked in the shower and all over and there was definitely no blood on her, none on the floors or walls and none staining the water that ran to the drain._

_It was warm, dry and comfortable. She could walk from room to room but she couldn’t leave. The outer doors were locked. Even the attic and fire escape were locked. She would quite like to go into the garden, step onto fresh grass in sunlight. It would make the dream perfect, but it wasn’t so bad. There were other people in the dream, some of them talked at her or among themselves but she didn’t listen. She didn’t want to hear the truths they might spill._

_She didn’t talk for fear of waking up. She wanted to stay in this dream, where the bloody evidence of what she had done didn’t dry in putrid puddles on the floor, and nobody forced her to her knees and pushed her bloodied lips around their rank cock, ramming deep into her mouth until she had no choice but to swallow the cum and say thank you._

_Someone led her to a sun-brightened room where a halo of yellow light clustered about the tall men talking at her. They seemed friendly, but it was hard to see their faces in the blazing sunshine. She tried not to listen but a word infiltrated her defenses. She heard it clearly, “Ackles,” and when clouds conspired to dim the brightness she saw a face. In her dream, green eyes stared down at her with compassion. There were freckles and a proud jaw-line._

_In that moment her dream shifted. She tried to remember the rules. If you died in a dream, did you die in reality? Or was it, if you see a dead person in a dream, you are dead too?_

_The thing about a dream is that you can’t always control what you do, so she wasn’t surprised when she reached out to touch his face and her voice came unbidden, “Did I die?”_

 

Doc Carver didn’t know who was most surprised when she reached to touch Jensen. There was no time to assess her purpose or ask him not to flinch. It wasn’t a problem because she was tentative and gentle, and he stood still, giving a reassuring smile.

 

“Did I die?” her voice was quiet and dreamy.

 

Jensen’s mind flashed back to his forced entry into her apartment. “No. No. I had a gun, sorry, nobody got hurt. I wanted to help. I still do.”

 

The doc laid a hand on his shoulder and he stopped talking. Her eyes were no longer focused and she was walking away in a daze, with no fixed destination.

 

They chatted for a while. Jared wanted answers and wanted to know when Caitlin could come home. Ben Carver didn’t have the answers, Caitlin’s case would be difficult in normal circumstances, but without knowing her history it was near impossible. He was reasonably certain that the personality in Glenview’s care right now wasn’t Caitlin, Jane or Emma but whoever she was, she was unwilling to communicate. He would be less worried if she was genuinely unresponsive, as she appeared to the untrained eye, but the clinic had cameras for observing patients and he was skilled in noticing small tells. The first time she moved away from an argument between patients it could have been coincidence but he scrolled through, finding it to be a consistent action. Then there had been the moment she had stopped by an open newspaper and focused on it for several minutes. Finally, she had walked the entire unit, glancing at every potential exit.

 

Jensen told Jared he would be some time at Glenview and reassured him that he would be fine getting a cab home. In truth he didn’t think he could take another journey in close quarters with him. Jared had driven, eyes hidden behind aviator sunglasses, his firm body, lithe and relaxed in perfectly fitted suit pants and a plain white, open-collared shirt. His long fingers had curled around the steering-wheel tapping in time with music while a breeze from his unwound window had blown rebellious hair softly around his face. Then of course, there was the enveloping sweet-sexy musk smell that was all Jared. Jeez, this really tested Jensen’s ‘we can be just-friends’ stance because what he had really wanted to do was make him pull over, kiss him hard and dirty, run his hands all over him, take those straining pants down and fuck him over the hood of his too-shiny black SUV.

 

So yeah, Jensen would be taking a taxi back to Madison House Mansions.

 

He settled in the Glenview Library, reading Caitlin’s file. He was used to reading victim reports and case files, it was never easy but as a detective he could disassociate. This file was making it more difficult than usual to stay detached. A list swam in front of his eyes; evidence of cracked ribs, cracked cheekbone, jaw injuries from forced removal of teeth, hand injuries, chipped shin bone, broken toes and deep cigarette burns. Finger and toenails only half grown back when she was arrested. The x-rays showed the inconsistent healing of injuries left to heal on their own, with no sign of medical help or intervention. Jensen couldn't imagine the pain of that.

 

He swallowed back tears as he fought the memory of another list and the excruciating vision of Tom’s agonized face as The Player inflicted those injuries while Jensen watched, bound, gagged and helpless.

 

The internal injuries were horrific. Caitlin would never conceive or bear children. There were external scars too, a neat pattern of cuts that traversed her back, chest and arms, like an intricate tattoo. Deep enough to scar yet not enough to kill, it was a sick work of art that, by its very positioning, couldn’t have been self-inflicted.

 

Then there was the arrest sheet, no evidence of any other person present when Alec, her pimp, had the exact same pattern repeated on his skin. The door had been locked from the inside, she had been covered in his blood and she had used the knife in a struggle to avoid arrest. There was no conviction, not because Caitlin had been declared mentally unfit, but because her pimp had sworn, when interviewed, that an unknown man had carried out the attack and left her, shocked, bloodied and holding the knife.

 

He rubbed his temples and forced himself to concentrate on the information in front of him. The file was ridiculously thin with a few scattered memories of Jane’s life as a prostitute over the months before her arrest. Jensen bit his lip, regretting his boast to Jared. From this perspective the task of identifying Caitlin looked impossible and if he did succeed he wasn’t sure Jared was going to like the truths he might uncover.

 

He took copies of a few of the reports, slipped them into his battered document case and called a cab. He had an investigation to organize.


	14. The Farra Building

Jensen sipped at his coffee and logged into his computer, staring absently at the rain lashing into his window. He had a meeting with Chad set up for that afternoon. Detective Collins had phoned to give him the details. Misha had been friendly and enthusiastic about seeing Jensen again, and for some reason they had veered onto the subject of Fairisle sweaters and ketchup. The ex-detective grinned at the memory, Misha seemed a little quirky but he liked him.

 

For now Jensen needed a distraction and work was as good as anything else.

 

Then again, maybe it wasn’t…

 

“Crap! You’ve got to be kidding me.” He blinked and looked at the list again...Carpentry, Wood Turning, Interiors for the Amateur, Evangelism with Ease…

 

“Mother,” he growled to nobody in particular as he stabbed at the buttons on his phone.

 

“Darling,” her voice was honey sweet.

 

“Mother, what the hell is this list of assignments?”

 

“Well, sweetie, your Papa and I are just fine, thank you for asking. The assignments would be whatever needed doing.” She gave an exaggerated sigh, “At the level you’ve chosen to work everyone just takes what they’re given and gets on with it. That’s what you wanted isn’t it?”

 

“Mum, this selection is deliberate. Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on here.” She sighed again and he could picture her turning her elegant hands and examining the shiny nail polish on beautifully manicured nails. “This work is beneath you Jensen. You should be sitting on the Board with Papa and I, or at least hold an executive position with Mackenzie.”

 

“Mama, no, we’ve already discussed this.”

 

“You can’t tell me you’re really happy doing this, Jensen. Everyone understood when you went into the Police Force. That was your passion. Don’t you think you may have given it up too easily? We know it’s your life, and Papa and I won’t stop you living it the way you want, but darling,” her voice cracked and he recognized real emotion, “Darling, you do need to start living it again.”

 

“Chad!” He exclaimed “Chad put you up to this.”

 

“Darling, I haven’t talked to Chad in months. Why would you think that? How is he?”

 

“He’s Chad. He’s a dick, the usual Mama. Now, quit time-wasting and tell me what you’re up to.”

 

“Farra.”

 

“As in Farra Publishing?”

 

“Uh-huh. Sweetie you know their HQ is just around the corner from you. Beth Farra is looking for a Marketing Executive and we thought you would fit the bill perfectly.”

 

“Mama, I have no marketing qualifications, why would anyone think that? Are you trying to take the competition down? I thought you and Beth were friends.”

 

“Tch. You were brought up in the business, you know it backwards. Farra have a different niche and we have no intention of harming Beth’s company,” her voice softened. “At least go and see her Jen, she cares about you and it was her idea. Turn her down gently darling, it’s been lonely for her without Derek.”

 

“Okay. Okay. I’ll go see her. Hell ma, there are better ways of reminding me to visit my Godmother. Just be clear though, I won’t be taking the job. Now please can we get this list adjusted?”

 

“We have a few historical romances,” she teased.

 

“Anything is better than what I have here.”

 

Donna Ackles giggled, “Darling, you never even opened the files did you?”

 

Jensen could hear peals of laughter in the background. Mackenzie!

 

“Mum! Put that rat of a sister on the phone. Now!”

 

She was snorting and gulping for air as he opened the empty files “ _Evangelism with Ease_ , you are such a sucker bro.”

 

“Mac! You bitch!”

 

“You don’t call. You don’t answer your phone, you don’t even text. If it weren’t for Chad I wouldn’t even know that you’re alive.”

 

“Mum said she hadn’t talked to Chad.”

 

“She hasn’t, I have, because unlike you, Chad picks up his messages, is excited to hear my news and couldn’t wait to congratulate me on my engagement.”

 

“O,oh.” Jensen stuttered, eyes searching the apartment floor, to see if he could locate a convenient hole to swallow him. “Mac, I’m sorry, the last few days have been a bit strange. That’s great news. When? How soon?”

 

“Next Fall! Jen, it’s so exciting, we’re going to have the wedding at home and it’s going to be beautiful. Look, we’ve got a meeting now, but there’s an invite for the engagement party in the post. You will come won’t you?” Doubt had crept into her voice.

 

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything Mac, you should know that.”

 

“Good because the invite is a ‘plus one’ and Chad doesn’t count because he’s got his own.”

 

They said their goodbyes, Jensen promised to keep in touch and then he hung up with a groan. ‘Plus one’, he would never hear the last of it from his little sister if he turned up alone. For now he had other things to think about though. He picked up his street-map and considered the Farra Building. He would call in on Aunt Beth before he met with Chad.

***

 

Jared paced the room. Social skills were not his strength. There is no manual to advise on the etiquette of being neighbors and staying friends with a guy you lust after and whose face you picture as you jerk off in the shower. It was awkward and uncomfortable but Jensen was a really nice guy, a lonely guy, who seemed to need support right now. If Jared didn’t look too closely at his own needs, it was because he never did, he had never learned to. He made his decision with the flick of a coin and bounded up the stairs, two at a time.

 

He grinned down at Jensen, all white teeth and dimples. “I’m going to be at the Precinct later, I remember Misha said you were going today, so er, if you need a ride, I’m um, going that way. You can y’know catch a lift, save waiting for a cab. I’m not due any fixed time so just say when.”

 

Jensen wondered if this was how an injured squirrel felt when Jared had it in his sights. “Oh, that’s kind Jay but I’m actually on my way out. I said I’d call in on an old friend. Maybe I’ll see you there.”

 

“Yeah, uh, maybe catch a ride back.” Jared’s smile faded, his dimples disappearing, and Jensen felt like he had just kicked a puppy.

 

“That’d be good.”

 

“Yeah, well, I’ll let you get on then, work to do.” Jared gave a wave and bounded back down the stairs.

 

***

Even in the rain, the view of the Farra Building was breathtaking. It was five stories of unique design, made to fit an awkward urban space. The lines were clean but not too sharp, the light reflected without harsh mirroring. The entrance was imposing but not grandiose, and taking the entire view, the suggestion of the whole representing a book stood with covers slightly open, was staggeringly obvious.

 

Jensen had never visited the building but as he climbed the shallow steps, _the line at the base of the book’s spine_ , he remembered how proud his godfather had been of it. He remembered the years his Uncle Derek had promised that Farra would build something unique to celebrate their family and the books that made their huge fortune. He recalled the excitement his godfather conveyed when he told Jensen that the design was chosen from a selection by young hopeful architects, the winner benefitting from a bursary to UT. The bursary had continued ever since, a student being chosen, in a different subject, every year. It was one of Farra’s ways of supporting the student community that was their largest market.

 

Uncle Derek had spent 4 years living and breathing this building as it was planned, constructed and furbished. There had barely been another subject on his lips but no one had begrudged him it. Those years, he was happier than anyone had ever seen him. As it turned out, the Farra Building had been his lasting memorial. He died of a sudden stroke soon after his business relocated there. Family and friends were grateful that he had seen the conclusion of his dream.

 

There was chatter in the bright, comfortable lobby as he made for the reception desk. Two receptionists with flawless hair and make-up were on duty in matching navy suits. Jensen bit back a grin. Aunt Beth was a stickler for appearances. The lady with the ‘Hi, I’m Danneel’ badge was busy signing-in a party of foreign businessmen, calmly issuing name tags and local information, so Jensen approached, ‘Hi, I’m Candy’ with a friendly smirk. ‘Hi, I’m Candy’ assessed him for a split second with bored eyes, taking in frayed jeans, casual top and a battered courier bag. She promptly answered the phone, waving her hand to indicate that he should wait in reception until she was ready.

 

Jensen took time to study the interior, taking in the natural lighting, comfortable seats and the artwork on the walls. There was Latin script artfully carved into the stone walls and he followed it around the room, spelling out the Farra family motto. It flowed beautifully at eye level, which is why Jensen frowned in surprise when the last of it was mostly hidden behind a display case. He peered behind the shelving to make out the last letters and was taken aback when he noted that the plaque commemorating the opening of the building was also obstructed from view. He squinted at the lettering and wondered how the tribute to Derek Farra had come to be obscured.

 

He was just making out the wording when Candy called out, “Er, you, with the documents. Someone from the mail room will be through shortly.” For a moment her rudeness was lost on Jensen as he read the bottom of the plaque.

**‘BUILDING DESIGNED BY J.T. PADALECKI.’**

 

There could surely only be one architect named J.T. Padalecki, but he remembered Jared specifically saying that he didn’t do new building or concept design. He was sure he hadn't seen a model or picture of it in Jared's office. He shook himself out of his thoughts as he registered the words that the receptionist had spoken to him. “Excuse me. No!” Jensen approached the reception desk. “I was hoping to see Beth Farra or make a lunch date for another day if she’s not available.”

 

“Anything you have the mailroom will take to her. Ms Farra is very busy.” Candy spoke haughtily at him.

 

Jensen blinked and gave a tight predatory smile. “Ring her PA and tell her that Jensen Ackles is here to see _Mrs._ Farra.”

 

“You will have to write for an appointment,” Candy said dismissively.

 

Jensen glanced at ‘Hi, I’m Danneel’ who was just finishing with the last of the businessmen. She seemed to sense something wasn’t right and took time to look him up and down. Jensen was dressed casually but he liked and could afford style, and he shopped in the sort of establishments that require prior appointment. She took in his shoes, assessed the battered Gucci leather bag and at about the moment her eyes reached the Rolex on his wrist she was propelling her wheeled chair over to Candy’s workstation and shoving her to one side.

 

“Temp!” she said, glaring at Candy. “I’m sorry Sir, I didn’t catch the name. How can we help?”

 

“Ackles. Jensen Ackles.” He gave her a bright smile and proffered his right hand.

 

“Ackles, as in….” and now she was looking daggers at Candy who was staring petulantly back.

 

“As in Ackles Corp, but that’s okay, it’s a personal visit. If Aunt Beth isn’t free it’s no big deal, maybe you can tell her I called by, get her to pick a day to do lunch.”

 

“I’ll enquire for you Mr. Ackles.”

 

“Mr. Ackles is my father. Call me Jensen.”

 

“Okay. Jensen.” She smiled a wide genuine smile, lighting up her pretty brown eyes. “Candy will get you some coffee while you’re waiting.”

 

Candy didn’t seem pleased but took his order and went to get it anyway.

 

Danneel let out a breath as Candy left the lobby “Sorry. She won’t be returning after lunch. We’ll see to that.”

 

“I guessed.”

 

There was a short silence and then Jensen spoke again “What’s with the display case covering the plaque? Surely it can be moved somewhere better.”

 

“It can,” answered Danneel, “But it’s Mrs. Farra’s specific instructions that it remain there. It’s not something that anyone mentions any more. Family or not, I wouldn’t recommend asking her about it.”

 

Beth left her PA to rearrange appointments so she could accompany her favorite godson to lunch. Jensen took her to a small bistro recommended by Danneel and they chatted about family, Mackenzie’s upcoming engagement and book launches. Beth didn’t bring up Tom’s name and was gracious when Jensen refused her offer of a senior marketing post.

 

The only time Beth stopped smiling was when Jensen commented on the Farra Building and how proud of it she must be. Her mouth closed to a thin line and her eyes clouded slightly, “I hate it. Let’s not talk about that.”

 

If Jensen wondered what ‘that’ was, he was too polite to question it.

 

They hugged outside the bistro and Jensen promised to stop by again. They hailed cabs and went their separate ways.


	15. Chapter 15

Detective Chad Michael Murray tidied the papers on the desk in front of him and stretched.

Jensen sat at an angle to the desk. He fingered photographs, tipping them toward him. His face was overly pale, his shoulders and jaw set rigidly, his watery green eyes blinked a little too often.

“If I remembered anything else, I would have let you know.”

“I know Jen. We just wanted to take another angle y’know. We should break awhile.”

“No. I want to finish this so you can leave.”

“Jen. I need a break. Tom was my friend, we were friends, don’t you remember?” The words were spoken too harshly and he rubbed his hands over his face. “Damnit Jen. I’m not going to apologize because we’ve been dancing this dance for almost a year and one thing I know for sure is that Tom wouldn’t want this shit. Not the drinking, not the self-pitying, not the running away and certainly not forgetting who you are and cutting your friends out. So, I am taking a break because I fucking need a chance to remember that somewhere in here,” and Chad poked at Jensen’s chest, “Is someone I like.” He slammed his chair back against the wall and stormed to the door. “You are giving that bastard exactly what he wanted. He said he didn’t finish the job because you were as good as dead. He said he’d won the game. You know what. I think he did.” 

“No,” corrected Jensen, to the empty room, “He said I lost the game.” He gazed into middle distance and added, “I’m not sure he meant the same thing.”

Jensen waited for a few minutes and when Chad didn’t return he leaned across the table and tugged at the edge of the file that was just visible at the edge of his ex partner’s briefcase. He stared at the neat label, with case number and a recent date before licking the tip of his thumb and flipping it open.

****

 

Jared nodded at the Desk Sergeant and collected his work from the photocopier. 

“Hey, Jay! Is it going to be a good one this year?”

“It sure will. Get ready to part with your cash.” He chuckled as he unpinned old notices from the board, rearranging the papers to make room for his freshly printed poster advertising the, ‘Widows and Families Gala Event’.

They both jumped as the door of the interview room slammed, the noise reverberating. Detective Murray threw his ‘visitor’ tag onto the desk and made for the exit with a short explanation, “I need some air.” They glanced at each other without comment and continued with their tasks. 

Jared had just finished on the Sports and Social Club notices when Jensen exited the interview room. The architect smiled and nodded to him before registering the almost translucent quality of the older man’s skin. Jensen seemed to sway a little before his eyes rolled upwards and he crumpled toward the floor. His cane clattered noisily against the shiny tiled surface and a folder fluttered through the air, scattering photographs in an arc.

*** 

Chad was directed to the medical room where Jensen was lying on a bed with Misha watching over him. 

“Jen!” 

Chad hurried to his side but Misha grabbed hold of his elbow and steered him out of the room. He was livid with the visiting detective and saw no reason to hide it. “You asked me to help get Ackles back on your case and then you come here, do this to him and just leave him alone? He’s not fit for duty. Any dumbass can see that. I don’t know what the hell you thought you were achieving but don’t you dare put it on me. Don’t you dare.”

“You don’t know him, you don’t know the case and it’s not your call to make. It doesn’t help him to stay away. He needs to be doing this job and we need him. He was okay when I left him, you weren’t there,” hissed back Chad.

“Nor were you, so it’s damn good job Jared caught him, wasn’t it?” 

Misha shoved a jumbled file of papers at Chad, “You’ll need to put this back together too.”

Jensen’s eyes flickered as he came to terms with the harsh overhead light. His nose burnt with the astringent smell of disinfectant and he was aware of voices arguing. He closed his eyes tight and concentrated on sorting through scrambled images. There was blood and guns, empty bottles and an empty bed but those weren’t from today. Today there was a building and photographs and Chad. There was the sensation of falling into strong warm arms and the smell of sweet candy musk. He groaned. He’d fainted, like a great big fairy, and Jay had caught him.

“Hey guys. Sick detective here,” Jensen reached an arm out to wave, but only succeeded in knocking a water jug off the counter. “Fuck!”

“Gross. Wet legs here!” Chad hurried to place a glass of water to Jensen’s lips.

“Y’okay.”

“Feel like crap Chad.”

“You could try drinking less alcohol and stealing fewer folders.” It was spoken with a laconic drawl.

“You should have told me. Should’ve been honest with me Chad. Don’t I deserve that?”

“I’m a douche-bag and you’re no longer on this case Jenny boy. Them’s the rules. What am I s’posed to do?”

“You’re supposed to break the rules asshole.”  
“Break them,” Misha spoke simultaneously.

Jensen raised himself on one elbow and turned to stare at Detective Collins, “Fine words from the dickwad who gave me shit for asking to look at the Caitlin Doe file and refused because it’s the rules.” 

Misha put his hands up defensively, “Yeah well that has never been your case.” 

“Is now, Dickwad.”

Jensen had maneuvered himself up and was sitting on the cot swinging his legs. “So how many saw my elegant nose dive?”

“That would be Jared, Sarge and the security cameras and I have to say it wasn’t particularly elegant.” 

”Oh God,” whined Jensen, massaging his temples with his hand. Then he frowned a little, “I’m curious. Just what is Jared doing here anyway?”

Misha knit his brows and answered as if Jared was such a part of the scenery that he had never really considered it. “He’s our alpaca. Oh and he raises stupid amounts of cash for the Widows' fund and takes stray dogs to the pound and makes coffee and stuff.”

“Alpaca?”

“Like a Precinct mascot. One of the older guys will know. Supposedly, he’s been a fixture here since he was 12 years old but that was before my time.”

“Well that’s all very interesting,” interrupted Chad, “but I’m wondering if you’re good to go Jen.”

Jensen Ackles fixed a sad, serious gaze onto his friend and ex partner, “That depends if you’re prepared to come clean with me and start this over.”

“Tom’s dead Jen, we’ve moved on, the investigation has moved on, you can’t beat yourself up over this forever.”

Jensen tensed, his jaw clenched and his green eyes glittered with fury. “No. I saw the file Chad, I saw the photos. This is about a young fireman and his eight year old nephew. Are you going to tell me how many more bodies we’re estimating are out there because I didn’t stick to my guns and insist they were a possibility? How many because I didn’t tell the profiler to go to hell when I knew. I knew Chad! Even when the Chief was insistent, even when Tom was screaming, I didn’t honestly believe there was only one Player. I wanted to believe it. Heck I so wanted to believe it and I needed Tom to believe it. Do you even know?”

“No. How can I?” Chad said sadly, “We can start over though.”

“I made coffee. How is he?” Soft hazel eyes under a mop of brunette hair peered around the doorway.

“Apparently an alpaca caught me, so I’m fine Jay. Thanks bud.”

“Alpaca?”

Jensen just shook his head and pointed at Misha, as if that explained everything.


	16. The Players

Jensen rocked back on his chair, chewing on his lower lip. It wasn’t a decision he had been expecting to make but he supposed circumstances had changed and he had his own agenda too. “I’m not going back to Texas Chad, it’s too much.”

 

“You don’t have to. The FBI want in but they don’t have the manpower or resources to take it all on. They will provide a new profiler at our end and they give you whatever technology and permission you need to use it. Effectively you will be consulting, funded jointly by FBI and our department. You'll answer to the Chief, but you will operate from here. Contact is with me, Detective Collins is assigned to give whatever regional help you need and you get your badge back. Temporarily you get an FBI one too so you can play with all the extra toys that brings. I mean c’mon Jen!!  Real, genuine FBI badge, but it’s a desk job, it’s confined to 20 hours in any week and that is not negotiable.”

 

Jensen scowled and Chad looked him in the eye. “Honestly Jen, if I told the Chief everything that has happened with you this week you wouldn’t be returning at all. Misha thinks you’re unfit and I’m wavering. I’m going to gamble on you because I know how strong you are. I also know we need you. You found The Player once. It’s because of you we know his habits and his face.” He held his hand up to still any speech from Jensen, “I know, he found you too, but that is not going to happen this time. Providing you stay off active duty he isn’t even going to know you’re back.”

 

“Well, it’s not like he can torture and kill my husband twice is it?” It was a bitter and sarcastic remark and Chad ignored it.

 

“I have to say I’m surprised Jen. Why the sudden turnaround?”

 

Jensen picked up his faded leather document wallet, unbuckled it and took out his own folder. He placed it in front of Chad and opened the cover.

 

“Caitlin Doe,” he said firmly, tapping the photograph held with a single paperclip. I get to ask questions, see records and it gets approved as part of this investigation. He sat back and waited for Chad to skim through the file.

 

Chad sucked in air noisily as he considered the demand. “We can’t approve anything in the field and it’s not a good idea. It would be a very, very bad idea to hit the streets asking about this.”

 

Jensen nodded, “Just the paper trail.” Mentally he crossed his fingers and added the words, “while on police time,” but Chad didn’t have to know that.

 

“Do you honestly think she could be one of ours?” Detective Murray asked.

 

“Nah. She’s alive, the cuts are outside the MO and what would be the odds? I reckon the rest of her injuries are close enough though, and so is the timescale.”

 

“Good enough. Okay. You got a deal Jenny-boy. You want to get to work?”

 

The rest of the afternoon was spent organizing resources and signing requisition forms. As afternoon wore into evening Chad refilled their coffee cups for the umpteenth time and rested a reassuring hand on Jensen’s arm. “I’ll leave a summary on the new findings but we should discuss them briefly.”

 

“Yeah, I know.”

 

“You can still back out of this if it’s too tough Jen.”

 

“No! No.” He ran a hand through his hair and chewed at his lower lip, “This” and he pointed vaguely, “This was supposed to help. Moving I mean, and there’s some relief in not seeing the old places but it doesn’t scrub the memories away. Sure as hell doesn’t stop the nightmares. Besides Chad, the editing is getting old. What else can I really do? This I was good at.” He looked defeated.

 

“Jeez Jen what the hell are you talking about? You ARE good at it! Don’t sell yourself short and don’t give me crap about not being good at anything else. I was there at school and you were the fucking golden boy. Don’t get me angry with you.”

 

“Can you just stop bitching me out and get on with this already?” Jensen flexed his fist in frustration.

 

Chad breathed out, silently counting to ten, “I guess.”

 

 ***

 

In 2007 two bodies were found in an abandoned warehouse near Richardson, Dallas. They had been systematically tortured. A deck of playing cards was strewn across the ravaged bodies and poker chips were stacked to one side. The victims were identified as a local psychiatrist and one of his patients. Neither had a history of gambling and both had been reported missing in the preceding week. Dallas detectives Jensen Ackles and Chad Michael Murray had been assigned the case in that first chaotic week of the investigation, and they had both been there when a letter had been received, addressed to Jensen. It contained a fingernail from each victim and a note,

**“He knew the rules of The Game. He lost. Be careful how you play.”**

Detective Jensen Ackles had a specialism and a dogged commitment to that skill. His ability to follow electronic and digital trails was singular. Within months, he had identified a former patient of the murdered psychiatrist as prime suspect and traced purchases, car rentals, bus tickets and fake identities that placed Karl Laing in the vicinity of the crime scene at the right time. Unfortunately, finding Karl proved more difficult. They were always an identity, a journey or a set of transactions behind and there was no pattern to his movements.

Twelve months passed and they were no closer to finding Laing when the next call came in. In the Winter of 2008, the bodies of a camp counselor and a teenage camper were found in an abandoned shack. A pack of playing cards was strewn over them. This time a poker chip had been mailed directly to Detective Ackles.

 

Similarities were found and old cases were re-examined. A road worker had been found murdered in 2006 with similar injuries and a deck of cards by his side. It was looking like Karl Laing was a serial killer stepping up his game, so to speak.

 

In September 2009 Jensen received a further note, on human skin, and all hell had broken loose.

 

**“I’m still playing the home advantage. Did you find the away teams yet? We haven’t found any winners. You haven’t found all the losers.”**

The investigation had been increased and a profiler employed. The profiler was adamant that the note was a red-herring, just a diversionary tactic, but Jensen had been skeptical. He believed there _was_ a second Player in sick competition with Laing. There had been arguments which almost came to blows and Chad uncharacteristically stepped in as peacemaker. No evidence of further victims had been found, and eventually Jensen had settled quietly back into his work and followed the leads he was given.

 

That was until January 2010, when Karl Laing disguised himself as a gas company worker and called at the home which Detective Ackles shared with his husband Tom. The rest, as they say was history. There had been no rescue. Karl Laing had played The Game and left Jensen crippled and tied in a burgeoning pool of Tom’s blood, listening to his husband’s last, wracked breaths. As Jensen longed for the release of death an anonymous call had been made. Emergency services had rushed to the scene, and medical staff had fought to save the detective’s life.

 

Karl Laing was still on the run, another year was fading, and here on the table was the evidence that, in places away from Texas, Laing had recruited other killers to play The Game and they had found more victims to be the pawns of their cruelty.

 

Chad reviewed the old evidence and the details of the unfortunate victims with Jensen, with a stony face and a matter-of–fact tone. Evening became night and Jensen’s attitude to Chad softened. Chad had been abandoned to all this by Jensen and he could tell it weighed heavy on his shoulders with the death of one good friend and the virtual death of another. “I’m sorry.”  Jensen said, unexpectedly. “I’m fucked up but I never wanted to take it out on you.”

 

“I know.” The arrogance was gone from Chad’s voice. “I'm tired of this shit, I want my friend back and I’m sorry if my expectations have been too high.”

 

“So, we’re gonna do this, yeah?” Jensen tried to sound enthusiastic.

 

“You know you will, and don’t pretend you can live without the job. We both know you can’t.”

 

“Tell me what I need to know. Let’s get it over with.”

 

Chad opened the new files. Jensen took a deep breath and somehow managed to find his professional detachment. They got to work.

 

According to the ‘Marsh Killer’ the Game was simple. He was approached on-line in 2007 to join The Game and find a victim, a pawn. The pawn was to be approved by The Player and had to be a strong character with protective instincts. He was given a week to kidnap and condition the victim, after which ‘The Player’ set him up with video streaming so that the victim could watch ‘The Player’ with his own pawns. The ‘Marsh Killer’ had no means of identifying Karl’s location. Once the game began the pawns were given the choice, in turn, to submit to a named torture. If they submitted then they chose a card from the deck. If they didn’t submit willingly to the punishment then the opposing team’s pawn received the torture without reward, and it was transmitted back for the other team to watch. The rules were never explained to the victims. The only way for either killer to win the Game was to collect a full hand of cards with a pawn still alive. There was no defined prize for either killer, just the satisfaction of fulfilling their own sick fantasies. The pawns weren’t actually expected to live.

 

The ‘Marsh Killer’ had chosen his victim, a young fireman and that had pleased Laing but during the abduction The Marsh Killer had ’unexpectedly’ encountered the young man’s nephew. Given the Marsh Killer’s proclivity for children, investigators doubted it had been an unexpected complication at all. In the end Laing told his accomplice that the boy’s inclusion had been inspired.

 

Jensen absorbed the new information. Chad watched carefully as panic grew in the wide green eyes then subsided as Jensen applied professional filters and corralled his emotions into a dark corner of his mind. His mouth was working and eventually Jensen found words, "The laptop. He kept looking at his laptop. He told us....shit. Chad, we, I, let someone go through that." He crushed a plastic cup in his hand, "I swear if I find the Players, they won't make it to court Chad. I'm going to kill the bastards myself."

 

"You and me both buddy."

 

“He‘s going to play again within the next few months, he may already have chosen victims. That‘s at least three more deaths,” Jensen shook his head as he spoke.

 

“Shush. That’s why we need you,” Chad squeezed his hand softly. “We are sure The Marsh Killer only played once. There were two more games since then. We need to establish if Laing is using the same opponent or recruiting a new one. If he’s recruiting fresh then we have a chance to insert our own people.”

 

“By now he’ll know that The Marsh Killer is in custody, he’s not going fall for that.”

 

“No. The FBI kept his identity under the press radar. The initial release didn’t give a name and was vague about the charges. They can carry on blocking for months. He isn’t going to want his co-operation highlighted.”

 

“We’ve got to get to Laing, Chad.”

 

“We’re going to Jen. You have to stay sober for this, okay? I got you a number for AA, will you promise to use it if things get bad?”

 

Jensen pulled a face and laughed “I’m not an alcoholic, dude. More like a serial binge-drinker.”

 

“That’s not funny, man.”

 

Jensen fixed his friend with a sly grin. “Have you got time to go for a drink before you’re due back at the airport? We should go for a drink with Misha.”

 

Chad broke into peals of laughter as he packed up his belongings. He gave Jensen a friendly slap on his back, “I may have time for just one drink. We should ask the hot Sasquatch too. I am mightily pissed you didn’t mention him. BFFs are supposed to get all the details first.” He tilted his head and scrunched his nose as he considered his own statement, “Eww. Actually, it’s probably best if you keep your epic man-love to yourself.”

 

Chad received a slap to his backside as Jensen followed him from the room, “There are no details because there is no epic man-love, you dick. We’re neighbors,” laughed Jensen.

 

“Jen, now you’re really worrying me. Tall, dark, handsome and giving you the eye? There’s a type here, and delusions aren’t an indicator of good health.”

 

As it happened, Misha and Jared had left the Precinct long before the two Texas detectives emerged from the interview room so Jensen manhandled Chad into his cab, ignoring his pleas for a stiff drink before flying. He narrowed his eyes and smirked, “Who’s the alcoholic Chad. Huh?”

 

He walked back to his apartment after seeing Chad off. On the way home, he called into the twenty four hour store near to Madison House Mansions and bought three bottles of Jack and a six pack of beer. As an afterthought he chose a few groceries and paid for them to be delivered. He took the Jack with him and flashed a grin at the store clerk. “Don’t deliver too early.”

 

As the first bottle became less full than empty Jensen decided that a glass was unnecessary and took to staring into the amber fluid through the tight round opening before sealing his lips around it and swigging the next warming mouthful.

 

Sometime after he removed the cap from the second bottle Jensen Ross Ackles had a revelation, or maybe something that could be loosely described that way. He thought maybe his thinking brain was a little fuzzy, like a little furry otter swimming in a pool of liquor. He giggled uncontrollably. Jay wouldn’t like that. He’d have to rescue the otter. So, eh, concentrate Ackles there was a revelation back there somewhere. Thinking...got it! He hadn’t forgotten why he was drinking, he never did and what’s more drinking didn’t stop the nightmares. Huh. Conundrum. Had he ever had this revelation before? Would he remember in the morning?

 

And oh, mmm, there was the rest of the revelation now. It was a good one. Jared should be his ‘plus one’ at Mac’s engagement party. Yep. It was a good one, providing Jared didn’t bring any otters or squirrels with him. He settled onto the soft cover of his bed and slipped into drunken unconsciousness with practiced ease.

 

The next day he thought that a good measure of alcohol would help him sleep better and puzzled over who he was going to take to Mac’s engagement party.


	17. Chapter 17

Over the next week life slipped into some sort of order for Jensen. He would roll out of bed, swallow a cocktail of prescription drugs and add some hangover cures.

 

Mornings started with coffee before he switched on his laptop and completed a few hours of editing. At lunchtime he called at Jared’s door, and if the architect was in they would find a table at Harvelle’s, tease Ellen and Jo and sample the snacks. Sometimes they would discuss Caitlin with Jensen picking Jared’s brains on small quirks in her behavior or her apparent knowledge of the building trade. Mostly the talk was of sport and the news. If there was a reason why they always chose a large table and maintained personal distance it wasn’t mentioned.

 

Afternoons were spent in a dusty side-office at the downtown police station where Misha worked magic in organizing all the resources Jensen could need, including sending the old desk-sergeant in with regular cups of hot, black coffee.

 

Jensen made rapid progress on the leads he had uncovered on ‘The Player’ the year before Laing had torn his life apart. At the time he had been convinced that Laing had organized another Player in Baltimore. There had been cam sightings and a parking ticket which were sidelined when the investigation was narrowed to focus on just one Player. Jensen contacted Chad and launched straight into details, “I’ve got two missing persons. I need everything, and I mean _everything_ on them, however irrelevant it may seem.”

 

“Shoot.”

 

“I've sent all the info, you should be getting it now. I’m looking at Fay Greenway, 25, Nursery School Teacher, missing since 29th December 2008 and Nancy Albright, 6, missing since 2nd January 2009. Neither has ever been found. At first glance there’s no connection, but get this, Fay spent three weeks, just before the Christmas break, at Nancy’s school, covering for a sick teacher. I can place Laing within streets of that school during that time, and again in Baltimore, in the first week of January, when he was spotted on the bus station cams.”

 

“You think they were the pawns?”

 

“I’d put my last bottle of Jack on it. Laing visited to size them up and set them up. I’m sure of it.”

 

“When I said we needed you Jen, I wasn’t joking. We’ll get a team to Baltimore. How are you doing? I know the kiddie stuff can be intense.”

 

“Look I’m fine, just trust me and run with this yeah?”

 

“We’re on it. Take care Jen.”

 

***

 

A rota was organized for visiting Caitlin. Jared and Jensen visited her on Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday. JD visited Wednesdays and Saturdays. Ellen and Jo promised to drop in whenever their heavy schedule let them.

 

One evening Jensen spied Jared through the plexiglass of his office door and wrapped up his work. He closed the door with a rattle, looking up at the younger man. “You just can’t keep away from this place can you?” he asked with a smile.

 

“I was passing by. Sarge says there’s a dog to go to the shelter. I said I’d take it to get it settled. The shelter is on the way home, you should get a ride with me.”

 

Jensen grinned wolfishly at his suggestion and winked. Jared flipped a playful slap to the back of his head. “Not that sort of ride.”

 

The detective settled into the back of the SUV with the anxious mongrel and they chatted comfortably about dogs until it was dropped at the shelter when Jensen joined the architect in the front of his car. With their physical distance reduced, the conversation faltered.

 

Jensen broke the silence first, “I saw the Farra Building the other day. Didn’t you design that?”

 

For a moment the Jared seemed to freeze, his hands gripped the wheel over tightly and his knuckles whitened. His jaw squared and his mouth became a tight line. “M’yeah.”

 

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t see one of those dinky models of it in your office, that’s all.”

 

Jared stared at the road ahead with excessive concentration and his expression was guarded, “I was inexperienced. I just see the mistakes I made.”

 

The detective tried to lighten the mood, “Well I like it,” he said, “but I guess if the roof leaks …”

 

A small sigh escaped the brunette’s lips and he joked, “The roof does NOT leak and if it did, it would be a _water feature_ ,” before changing the subject abruptly. “Why don’t you have a car Jen? Do you drive?”

 

“I used to drive before. Well, before y‘know. Then I couldn’t and now it doesn’t seem like such a good idea. Sometimes I, uh drink.”

 

There was a long silence while Jared digested the answer and realized what an insensitive question he’d asked, “Oh. Right. Sorry.”

 

Jensen was sure he could hear the digital clock ticking as he fiddled with a thread in his pants and he spoke just as Jared reached to turn the radio on, “Misha said you’ve helped out at the precinct, since you were young. Did you want to be a cop when you were little?”

 

Jensen didn’t imagine the swerve as Jared took his eyes off the road and looked at him. He lunged to hold on to the dashboard as the tall man righted their vehicle.

 

“What exactly did he say?”

 

“That you’ve been going there since you were twelve. Was your mom or dad on the force?”

 

Jared seemed to be holding his breath as he took smaller, safer glances at his passenger. “My mom died when I was twelve,” he breathed out now.

 

“Oh hell, I’m sorry man, I didn’t mean to…”

 

“S’okay. It must look odd. That time. It’s not something I’m real comfortable discussing.” He focused on the road ahead, turned up the radio a notch and they fell into awkward silence for the rest of the journey.

 

Some evenings Jared challenged Jensen to X-Box games and they settled on his oversize furniture, grasping the controllers. The banter would come naturally as they egged each other on, or attempted distractions. If, at times, they sat a little close, legs and shoulders hot and flush against each other, nothing was said but after a while one or other of them would suddenly end the game. Jensen would make excuses to return to his own apartment and he would crack open a bottle of whiskey before bed. Jared took to running harder and faster. He stopped most nights and asked Hal to look after the dogs awhile.

 

If their friendship seemed strained or frustrating it didn’t matter to them. They enjoyed each other’s company. Jensen understood that he was a crippled mess who drank too much. Jared knew that Jensen deserved more than he could give. Neither of them was prepared to risk their camaraderie by asking for more.


	18. Secrets

 

 

The problem with secrets is that they tend not to stay that way. Chance, curiosity and nature conspire to unravel hidden truths and awkward lies. Revelations are like daylight on ancient artifacts. Some things will gleam and reveal their worth, while others crumble to dust in an unfamiliar atmosphere.

 

Several blocks away from Madison House Mansions, the elements threw their worst at an abandoned warehouse and authorities reluctantly declared it unsafe. Contractors explored the disused depths of the storage areas, destroying locks and battering doors. They scratched their heads and wondered why the ‘Painter Mobile Snacks’ Baltimore-registered minivan, nestled under tarpaulin, all out of fuel, but in perfect working order. Time is money, it was towed, stored and a cursory note forwarded to the local PD. It hadn’t been reported stolen and nobody was answering the contact numbers. Details were filed and forgotten.

 

Nature threw three days of storms at the Baltimore suburbs and on the third day a secluded house creaked its disapproval and tiles dislodged from the roof. Rain water began its insidious spread through the structure, creeping ever closer to the main electrical circuits. Some drops collected in the dusty, half-filled suitcases that rested on the bedroom floor but there was nobody to place other receptacles to slow the damp assault that gradually reached the live electrics. Eventually, small flames bloomed and licked at the breaker box then spread and crackled, eating eagerly at finishings and furnishings. Acrid smoke curled lazily upward and hung in the air, alerting neighbors to call the fire department. Eventually, when only smoldering black wreckage remained, Baltimore PD was asked to identify and locate the owner, and it wasn’t proving an easy task.

 

Karl Laing took another puff of his cigarette and then stubbed it out on the sidewalk beside Glenview Psychiatric Hospital. He adjusted his binoculars and focused as best he could, on the conservatory, where the tree of a man with floppy brown hair, gently guided Emma. Yes, he was sure now that it was Emma, to sit. He watched as the huge caring man talked at the woman, all small smiles and careful movements. He was perfect. He was sure Emma would agree.

 

***

 

Of course there is another problem with secrets and the nature of their discovery. It is that a secret once seen, cannot be unseen.

 

Detective Jensen Ackles could pinpoint with clarity the exact moment he opened Pandora’s Box. He remembered the sickening sensation of free-falling into an abyss made of his own stupidity. Staring at the information, on the screen of his computer, in the downtown police station, Jensen knew he had compromised the fragile friendship he had come to care most about.

 

The FBI installed all the latest databases and nationwide search facilities. It excited his inner-geek and he set about exploring the limits of the data he could extract. He idly entered his mother’s address and checked the completeness of the information, then tried Chad. He wracked his brain to think of someone else to test the system, someone he knew less about, but who would, for all intents and purposes be a ‘blank slate’ to the criminal justice files. It seemed an inspired moment when he hit upon Jared for the task. It was absolutely off limits to use the system for anyone other than legitimate suspects, but Jared was an upstanding citizen. He never refused to help his local PD. Jensen didn’t ask Jared for permission, he was sure to be fine with it.

 

It took seconds to ask for the information that Jensen would forever regret viewing.

 

His mouth sagged and his eyes widened as he scrolled through the data. That Jared collected parking tickets like kids collected trading cards would be amusing if it weren’t for the rest of the text.

 

Jared Tristan Padalecki had a sealed Juvenile file. He spent 6 months in Juvie Hall between the ages of 15 and 16. His mother was deceased. His father was in prison, with a list of drunken convictions that started the year his wife died and culminated in a life sentence for a murder committed in a drunken frenzy. Jared had a younger sister and an older brother, Jeff who was deceased.

 

At 17 yrs old Jared was twice arrested and charged with shoplifting. Later that year he had been given a formal warning for the crime of prostitution.

 

At the age of 19 he had been arrested, charged and fined for prostitution. His sister had been forcibly removed from him and taken into care.

 

There was no data after 2001. What Jensen had already seen would prove to be enough and too much.


	19. House of Broken Souls

  **House of Broken Souls**

 

Jared turned the drawings around in his hand as Dr. Carver looked on. “They’re good but it‘s not an architect‘s drawing. It‘s less of a ‘to be‘, more of a ‘what is‘, and the measurements are approximate,” he said.

 

The Doc looked confused.

 

“This is more of a sketch. It’s the sort of thing that tells you what is already there, shows problems that you have to solve prior to refurbishment or demolition of a building.”

 

“What building is it?”

 

“They’re different buildings. You should recognize this one. It’s a floor plan.”

 

“It’s Glenview.”

 

“Yeah. This one is home, and this one is entirely different. It’s an elevation, see. It gives the view from the side. I have no idea what building it is. It’s six stories and modern, probably late ‘70’s. I don’t recognize it. It‘s definitely not local.”

 

He handed the papers back, “Can we copy these for Jensen.”

 

You’re going to want a copy of this one too,” Dr. Carver held a smaller document toward Jared. “This one’s got a title but damned if I can find anywhere that matches that name.”

 

Jared squinted at the drawing. “I’ve seen this before. She’s drawn it before. It looks like the basement of an old building, a hospital maybe. I thought it was peculiar. See this room; it has a door that opens inward. The door is clearly there but so is a wall. It shows the doorway as sealed over.”

 

“And the title?” Doc questioned.

 

He peered at Caitlin’s neat handwriting, “House of Broken Souls.”

 

“I have no idea. So you gave her a pencil and paper and she just drew this stuff but she still isn‘t talking?”

 

“That sums it up neatly, Jay. It gives me somewhere to start. Psychologically there is a long-shot that the sealed room actually represents her core personality. It’s an avenue to explore. Practically we know for sure she does have some sort of connection with the building trade. The doctor put the papers to one side and drummed his fingers on lightly the desk.

 

“So, we should get to the real reason why I’m here then?” Jared asked.

 

The Doc picked up another document, neatly printed with sums of money represented in figures.

 

“It’s a sizeable invoice Jay and she’s not going to be discharged any time soon. We’re absorbing what costs we can but the total will be substantial. I’ve made some enquiries. I’ve found a place at one of the more liberal facilities. I can make arrangements today.”

 

“No. I’ve already released assets to cover it.”

 

“Jared, please.”

 

“Money isn’t an issue.”

 

“Money is an issue for everyone Jay.”

 

Jared set his jaw square and stared bright eyed at the Doctor. “It’s not an issue for me. She stays. No more questions.”

 

The Doctor tilted his head and spoke softly, “How much does an architect earn Jared? How do you manage any of this? Even for the brilliance that designed The Farra Building, there has to be limits.” He was trying to be positive but Jared’s expression started to darken in an unfamiliar way. He certainly wasn’t the expecting the loud, angry outburst, from the usually calm man, “What assets I have and how I use them is nobody else's business. She could stay at this facility for the rest of her natural life and it wouldn’t break me, but that is **none**. **of. your. business**. It is not your concern as long as you are paid. Understand?” He spat the punctuated words with venom. “She stays. Bill me. Send the copies on, invoice me. I’ll be visiting as usual.” He turned on his heel and left the room leaving Dr. Carver startled and vexed.

 

Jared stumbled into his car and sat without driving, forehead resting on the steering wheel, until his breath came under control. First Jensen, now the Doc. He told himself he was overreacting. When the Farra Building was first opened he was feted in the local press, ‘ _local boy done good_ ’, but outside of the trade no-one acknowledged it any longer. There were whispers and glass ceilings but no-one dared to publicly voice them.

 

***

Jared was still wound up when Jensen texted, “Need to talk re. Caitlin.”

 

He keyed a reply, “Me too. Your place, an hour?”

 

“K.”

 

Jensen was staring at the sidewalk with a glass of whiskey in his hand, his features carefully neutral when Jared arrived.

 

“What have you got Jen?”

 

“I don’t know. It’s an inconsistency, just something that doesn’t fit.”

 

“You think I know the answer? Shoot man.”

 

“Who assigned Caitlin as a Jane Doe?”

 

“I don’t know. Cops, probably.”

 

“Yes, but when? I’ve gone over all the statements and Doc Carver’s work. As far back as anything goes she‘s called herself Jane Doe. Interviews with street workers back it up. She was never anything else to them, before she ever got cautioned or arrested. Even before Alec was pimping her, she was Jane Doe. It’s not a real name and it’s not a name anyone would reasonably choose. I just can’t figure why unless...”

 

Jared got it then, “Unless she was assigned it on a previous arrest or hospital admission.”

 

“Genius! I’m going to see what I can find. How about your news?”

 

Jared described the drawings and the peculiar title Caitlin had given to the one.

 

“ _House of Broken Souls_. Sounds more like a book,” mused Jensen. “Well at least we have something. You know it still feels like we may be looking for someone who doesn’t really exist.”

 

“How do you mean?”

 

“Misha showed me the film of her arrest. It’s not pretty. He showed me the other victim. The one from a month before. You didn’t tell me about him Jared. Did you think I wouldn‘t find out? You think I need to look like an idiot who goes in half-cocked?” He had been shocked when Misha had tactfully taken him aside to regale him with other unproven suspicions that centered on Caitlin. He had felt his cheeks burn at the indignity of being shown his own job and he had time to nurse anger at the man in front of him, who led him on and misled him, the man who invited attention, then ran out on him, who kissed him and then dismissed him.

 

“No! Her pimp said it wasn’t her that cut him and there was no evidence, none for the other man. There’s no proof she was even working that night.”

 

“Listen to me Jared. Her pimp is never going to admit it was her. She worked as a submissive for him. He specializes in S and M. He is not about to put up a neon sign saying his hookers are great fun until they turn psycho. He is absolutely not going to say anything if she’s previously gone Freddie Kruger and he disposed of the evidence. The cuts on the man match, but I’m betting Jane didn’t put the bullet in him. Think about it.”

 

“Is that it? Is this you giving up?” Jared reached an arm to Jensen’s shoulder to swing him around to face him. Jensen unbalanced and stumbled, hitting his arm against the desk and dropping his glass to the floor.

 

“Ow. Fuck! Jared. No.”

 

“What then?” The architect stood legs akimbo and muscles tense and glowered at him.

 

The whiskey thrummed through Jensen’s veins and dulled his mind and there was no tact in his bitter explanation.  “I’m saying it’s possible that whatever education or past she may have had, she chose to sell herself. If, or when, we identify her, we may only be giving a name to someone who is just a hooker with psychotic tendencies. It may be all that is there. You should prepare for that.”

 

Jared shook as he balled his fists, “JUST a hooker? It’s okay Middle America, you can do what you like to a whore? It doesn’t count because they’re worthless? Is that it Jen? Shall we just round them up and put them down? That work for you Detective?” He rounded on the detective, with his eyes bright. In that moment he hated Jensen, hated every small minded, _privileged fuck_ who had ever judged him. Whatever he did, whatever successes he had, he would never be clean or worthy because you can never wash the street from your soul, “You‘re like all the rest.”

 

Jensen stilled, horrified, as he realized the impact his careless words were bound to have on the man standing before him. He raised his hand to his mouth as his eyelashes parted, wide and panicky.

 

“No. Jay, no. Jeez, not you. I can’t even. I didn’t mean it like that. People can change, never worthless, don’t even think...”

 

...and that was it. It was the moment Jared saw it in Jensen’s eyes, heard it in his excuses and understood what the detective had done. In front of Jensen’s eyes the gentle Architect transformed into the life-hardened street kid he once was, his face shut down into stony features, jaw set and eyes cold. “You _researched_ _me_. You bastard! You two-bit alcoholic, has-been. What was I supposed to expect from you? You can barely find your way home, your own husband died because you couldn’t keep track of your own work …”

 

Jensen couldn’t stand to hear any more. His fist cracked hard against the tensed jaw and split the soft red lip, spilling a trickle of blood over Jared’s chin. His other fist crunched into the architect’s cheek, catching his eye socket, before he even registered his hands were moving. The realization didn’t stop him. He still followed through with a hefty punch to Jared’s gut because he _hated_ him for his stupid perfect charity and the way he led him on, then pushed him away. He hated him for all the emotional turmoil the man sparked in him.

 

Jared doubled over for a moment as pain tore into his face and air was forced from his lungs with bruising force. He recovered his stance rapidly, _what street kid didn’t need that skill to survive?_ And he was _furious_ , with Jensen, with himself, with every fucker who had ever screwed with him. “Oof! Fuck you Ackles,” Jared raised his own large fist, crunching into Jensen’s face twice before knocking him to the ground with a heavy blow to his chest. Jared turned and snarled at Jensen as he left his apartment, “Six weeks notice to leave the building. Expect the letter.”

 

***

An hour later Jared heard the main door slam. He watched Jensen walk unsteadily away from the building, no coat or umbrella, in cold, driving rain. He nursed his aching jaw and damaged pride and let him because he _hated_ the ridiculously dedicated and handsome man for turning his life and his emotions upside down.

 

Jensen wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking when the false warmth of inebriation wore off and an uncontrollable shiver started, soul deep, spreading to every pore of his being. He became aware of a shooting pain spiking through his spine and he fought through the agony to continue, needing to hail a cab before the inevitable happened. He didn’t make it. Tears of frustration joined the rain sliding down his face as he sank to the sidewalk by a dimly lit bar. He hid his face in his hands. He would rest awhile here and then he’d be fine, get up, get a cab and go back to his apartment. He didn’t think of the place as home. He’d be moving on soon enough.

 

He was so cold now, his mind began to drift. He thought he heard voices but they seemed unreal.

 

“Hey. You okay buddy? You’re soaked.”

 

“Leave the drunk, I’m payin’ for your body, not your bleedin’ heart.”

 

“He looks hurt.”

 

“Oh, for God’s sake, are you working or not?”

 

Long fingers cupped Jensen’s chin softly tilting it up. Compassionate brown eyes looked down at his bruised and bloody face and recognition sparked in them.”

 

“Shit! Look at you. Jensen isn’t it?”

 

“M’okay. Resting. You go, you got business,” He slurred at the hooker, trying to recall a name from their earlier encounter.

 

Mark’s business was getting impatient. “Look you dumb whore, just ring 911 and leave the loser. My suit is getting ruined.”

 

“Oh. I’m sorry. I got a better offer. Better get yourself inside before that cheap suit disintegrates.”

 

“You’re really going to pass me over for that,” the man scoffed.

 

“Well, the sex is hot and I’m thinking he tips better than you.”

 

Jensen raised a faint smile at that, “I’m serious man, don’t waste your time.”

 

“Not wasted, I know you’re good for it. You will be tipping me y’know, unless…do you need an ambulance?”

 

“No, no. Sex is good or sleep. Mebbe I can jus’ sleep with you.” He collapsed into the warmth of the shaggy-haired hooker. Mark called for a taxi, made a booking at the Hilton on Jensen’s Platinum-card and lifted him to his feet, practically carrying him to their destination.

 

Jensen’s mobile started ringing at 3 a.m. Mark shook Jensen briefly but his eyes were closed, his eyelashes resting softly on pale cheeks with freckles standing out darker for the pallor of the skin. There were purple-green bruises blooming on his chin and his nose was swollen and blue. He was finally warm and sleeping peacefully. Mark buried the phone under the soft pile of luxury pillows and waited for it to stop ringing. At 3:30 a.m. Mark gave up, grabbed it from its hiding place and took it into the en suite, closing the door behind him.

 

***

Jared couldn’t sleep. He paced his apartment, tried not to think, tried not to let the memories through, but faces came unbidden, places, smells and voices jostled for attention. Sadie whined and licked his hand, Harley yawned and settled himself back onto the rug, brown eyes following his master. Jared reached up for the photo frame on the wall and unclipped the backing. He fingered the top photograph first. It showed Harley, Sadie and himself, carefree and goofing around at the park. It was everything that he had worked to become, everything that he wasn’t prepared to give up just because some jumped up, has-been cop knew what he was. He swallowed, angry with his own thoughts. No, everything that _he had been,_ lifetimes ago.

 

There was another picture behind the first, Jeff, Chris and himself smiling, with Secret curled up on Chris’ shoulder. It was cute and his heart broke for Jeff but the only emotion he felt looking at Chris was a residual fondness. Chris always got the blame for his screwed up attitude, but it was a convenient lie, something to cover the untellable truth.

 

He stalled and drew breath before pulling the last picture from the recess of the frame where nobody could guess he hid it. He hadn’t looked at it for a very long time but whenever he saw the picture on his wall, he was aware of the photograph within. The image was burned so intensely into his memory that he had no need to turn it in his hand, but it was comforting to do it anyway. He traced the shape of their faces and put his finger on the image of the lips that had kissed him so tenderly, so passionately, so gingerly, so possessively, so often. Ackles couldn’t know this, couldn’t have this. Nobody could. His heart steadied and he relaxed. _You always did that for me_ thought Jared as he re-organized the photographs and clipped the frame back onto the wall.

 

With the frame back on the wall Jared returned attention to the present. It was 2:30 a.m. and Ackles hadn’t returned. He had disappeared into the rainstorm in nothing but a light tee-shirt, with blood still running lightly from his nose and probably drunk out of his mind. The enormity of the situation hit Jared. He had physically hurt the man and now he was missing and vulnerable. He didn’t want to be worried, Jensen was an asshole and he _hated_ him, but the green-eyed man got under his skin and he was concerned. Whatever had passed between them, for reasons he didn't want to examine too closely, he needed Jensen to be okay. He scowled, picked up his phone and dialed Misha.


	20. Chapter 20

Jensen lowered his head and mumbled replies at the greetings he received at the Station on Monday. He headed into his office, clicked on his displays and lost himself in the data. Missing persons, credit card trails, bus timetables, S and M communities and, most sickeningly, kiddie porn sites scrolled beneath his gaze, but it was hard to focus. He squinted at the blurred screen and he didn’t hear Misha come in.

 

Misha reached back to the door, opened it again and closed it harshly so it bounced ajar, the slam echoed and Jensen jumped. “I think,” said Jensen, carefully, “I may have found something else our two Baltimore victims had in common.”

 

“Right now I don’t give a crap if Karl Laing is in the foyer in handcuffs. Where the fuck have you been? Chad has been out of his mind and Jared has been frantic.”

 

“I was at the Hilton. You were told that, and I know you sent somebody to check.”

 

“So, your boyfriend did tell you he answered the phone to Chad then? He wasn’t very polite. Did he tell you to ring me?”

 

“FYI, he’s not my boyfriend. He told me you wanted to hear from me. He also told me that you knew I was fine. I didn‘t feel like talking,” Jensen snapped at his colleague.

 

“What in hell happened?”

 

“I beat the shit out of Jared, got drunk, got laid, and bought an apartment. Not that it’s any of your business, unless Jared’s looking to charge me with assault. He should. I‘m a cop and I hit him.”

 

Misha scrutinized Jensen’s features, “Jared’s face is less colorful than yours. He’s pretty cut up about it. He won’t say what happened.”

 

“Let’s just say it won’t be happening again. I stay away from him. He can stay away from me. I can move out in a month.” Jensen could feel sweat pooling at the base of his spine, yet he felt cold.

 

“Misha’s face dropped, “Jen. You could just apologize to each other.”

 

“Misha, just tell your friend that it won’t happen again. Tell him not to worry about anything, that I’m organized to leave. I’ll meet any legal expenses. My lawyer will be in touch.”

 

“Your lawyer!” Misha exploded, “I thought you were friends.”

 

“Yeah well,” sighed Jensen, “that implies a certain level of trust.”

 

“Are you going to talk to anyone about this? What about Caitlin?”

 

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” a pencil flew through the air as Jensen launched it at the wall. His hands trembled now, devoid of anything to grip. “I am not giving up on Caitlin. I’ll give you and Dr. Carver everything I find.”

 

“Jared said you stopped visiting her.”

 

“I hardly know her. I threatened Jared in front of her, then broke down her door and pointed a gun at her. The Doc told me to stop visiting. Apparently, I frighten her. She has nightmares after I visit. It’s hardly surprising is it?”

 

“Oh. You didn’t tell him that.”

 

“I didn’t get the chance.”

 

The phone rang, interrupting them. The display registered a Baltimore area code, “I have to get this Misha. Just go.” He shooed the blue-eyed man out.

 

Detective Collins shut the door behind him and looked up at Jared who was leaning against the wall, just out of sight of Jensen’s office. He shook his head at him and Jared blinked his cat-like eyes.

 

“I heard enough, it’s probably for the best,” he muttered.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Misha.

 

“Nah,” The tall man replied.

 

“You know, you two are the most stubborn, pig-headed idiots I have ever known.” With that Misha stalked away.

 

Jensen took the call, thanked the caller for the information and, struggling to comprehend the details, he redirected it to Chad. His hands shook uncontrollably as he tugged at the handle of his drawer and drew out a silver flask. He unscrewed the cap and held it to his nose, closed his eyes briefly and let himself breathe in the peaty aroma. He tipped the flask, shaking a lone drop, gleaming, round and golden, onto the shiny surface of his desk. He reached and squashed it with one finger, bursting it into a miniature puddle. He raised his finger to his lip and pressed the faint taste of pungent malt to his tongue.

 

His stomach cramped now, nausea rising as sweat bloomed on his face. He reached unsteadily for his phone and started to dial. He knew the number of the liquor store, of course he did. His finger shook uncertainly over the numbers and he cursed. He _wasn’t_ an alcoholic, he couldn’t be, but here he was. Two days ago a man he barely knew, someone he had no memory of picking up, a hooker no less, stood over him while he retched into a hotel toilet in a room he had no memory of renting. The man had raged at him, _‘You could have died and the people looking for you would have blamed themselves.’ ‘You could have died and where would that have left me, a whore with a dead man in his bed.’ ‘I usually have higher standards than this.’_ and the one that really stung, _‘You could have died and someone would have had to tell your mama.’_

 

He had asked Mark why he’d bothered to help and had been treated to the bitter truth, “You were an easy target. I thought I’d rip you off and leave you, but in the end you were too pathetic even for that.”

 

He hadn’t had a drink since. He assured himself he wasn’t dependent, didn’t need it, but here he was, his own body begging to differ. He pressed cancel and shakily dialed a different number. “I need to speak to Dr. Carver. Yes, it is urgent.”

 

Detective Ackles called a cab and left the Precinct. He didn’t return to work for four days.

 


	21. Chapter 21

Two weeks after Jared and Jensen fought Caitlin tried to leave Glenview. The orderlies found her in a floor duct, cover lifted open, trying to squeeze through the crawl-space. Okay thought Doc Carver, she really knows a thing or two about buildings. Glenview hired a builder to review security and Jared was informed.

 

Jared came after work to talk to Caitlin. He brought a freshly printed document with him. “I thought you might like to see this Caitie.” He showed her the drawing, neatly titled ‘House of Broken Souls.’

 

“It’s been amended, see. We took the wall down, the door is open.” He pointed to the opening depicted, “You can come out now.”

 

For a brief moment she responded. She reached out and snatched it from him and studied it. She uttered one word before relapsing into her silent world, “No!”

 

The second time she tried to leave she removed some ceiling tiles, knotted bed sheets about her neck and hung herself from a beam. Doc Carver swore at her between resuscitation breaths, “Don’t you dare do this to Jay. Don’t you dare!” Her breath returned and she was taken, still unconscious, to the infirmary.

 

For a time Caitlin drifted between conscious and unconscious, dreaming or not dreaming. 

_The door opens. Dim light filters onto the blood stained floor. Emma blinks in surprise, wondering where the wall has gone. Caitlin walks to the open space and reaches to feel the nothingness. Jane strides right through the doorway, not a glance back. Emma tugs at Caitlin, pushing her out of the opening and another woman steadies her. Emma keeps moving, “Stupid bitches can stay.” She pushes the door and it begins to close._

_At the last moment Caitlin grabs at the door and keeps it open with her finger, by a fraction. The other woman looks her in the eyes. “I need to come with you,” she says._

_“You can’t. Emma will know, and they‘ll find out what you did.”_

_“I can be quiet. You won’t even know I’m there,” she pleads._

_“Okay.”_

_They walk out of the room together, watchful for Emma._

 

***

“You threw them off site?” Steve was aghast with his friend.

 

“They had their chances. They couldn’t hack it.” Jared glomped through the mud, glowering under the peak of his hard hat.

 

“You threw them off site. Wow Jay. Do you think that just maybe it’s time to admit that you have a thing for Ackles and a problem with commitment? Just maybe you should stop him from leaving or at least try to talk with him.”

 

“I don’t have a problem with commitment.”

 

“No, because you rarely get past half an hour.”

 

“What has that got to do with assholes who can’t get the job done?”

 

“Nothing, except you never, _ever_ do this. You have been in an evil mood since the pair of you exchanged fisticuffs. You’ve been pissy and unbearable and I’m fed up of you denying it.”

 

They were interrupted by Jared’s mobile. The display showed Glenview’s ID, Jared flashed it at Steve, “I have to take this.” He stilled as he took the call. When he started to shake Steve was there to talk to Doc Carver and drive him to Glenview.

 

Caitlin woke with Jared by her side. She smiled faintly and looked about her, confused by her surroundings. “Hey you.” she said.

 

“Caitlin?”

 

“Was I out of it?” She asked.

 

“You could say that,” Jared choked out, half laugh, half sob. He held her hand tightly. “You scared me. Don’t you ever do that again.”

 

“Whatever it was, I’ll try not to.”

 

She took a drink of water and dozed off.

 

When she came around again Jared was still there and JD had joined him, resting in a chair, by Caitlin’s side. “Doc says you should have something to eat or drink.” JD smiled at her warmly and she returned it with a shy turn of her lips and reached for his hand.

 

“I’d love a coffee,” replied Caitlin.

 

Jared watched the exchange and wondered if Caitlin and JD had always looked at each other that way, like a light switched on in their eyes when they were together. It was a complication but somehow he didn’t think it was a bad one. 


	22. Chapter 22

A few days after Caitlin was cut down from the rafter Jensen asked Misha into his office. He placed several photographs on the surface in front of the blue-eyed detective. “What Family activity is there in this area?”

 

“As in gangs, you mean?” Misha asked for clarification.

 

“Mafia, mob, family, whatever. Who runs the show locally?”

 

“Nothing significant. A few minor drug barons, a couple of overgrown pimps. No Sicilian mobsters if that’s what you’re after.”

 

“Not Sicilian. Irish maybe? Alec, Caitlin’s pimp, does he have connections?”

 

“He would qualify as an overgrown pimp and wannabe businessman. He scares a few small dealers, he’s got a few heavies, but he’s not mob in the traditional sense.”

 

“So the names Riordan and Murphy aren’t familiar?”

 

“I can check but they don’t ring a bell. Why?”

 

Jensen tapped at the pictures and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath as Misha studied them. He sat back in his chair as the Texas detective explained the gruesome photographs.

 

 “In 1981 there was a family scuffle in Chicago between two minor mob families. At the time Pa Murphy was in control of business. Pa Riordan decided he wanted more of the action so he put feelers out and found himself a willing informant in the Murphy camp. Unfortunately the man turned out to be less than loyal. This wouldn’t be significant if it weren’t for what they did to the unfortunate snitch when they found out.”

 

“They carved him up,” Misha muttered, studying the pictures.

 

“The pattern matches Caitlin’s marks almost exactly.”

 

“And the others?” Misha was sorting through six pictures.

 

“When Pa Murphy caught up with Riordan he decided to return the favor with his entire family. Ma & Pa Riordan, their two sons and a cousin.”

 

“But this was so long ago. Caitlin looks about 33 so she would have been what, under 10 years old at the time? Have there been any others since?”

 

“I can’t find a thing. Not anywhere. The Riordan family was wiped out, and there’s been no known conflict since. It makes no sense and I’m struggling here Misha, but I’m certain there has to be a connection. That,” and he tapped on a picture of a mutilated man, “cannot be a coincidence.”

 

“Okay Jen. I’ll put some feelers out. See what we can dig up. How’s the rest of it going? Sarge treating you well?”

 

“Sarge is giving me a permanent caffeine high.” grumbled Jensen, “And he checks my desk to make sure I’m not lacing my coffee with whiskey.”

 

Misha tried to hide his mirth but Jensen swiped at him anyway. “As if I don’t know who asked him to do that!”

 

“You seem to be doing better,” Misha commented.

 

“There’s a program, I think work actually helps and I have...other distractions,” Jensen quirked his lips suggestively.

 

“Yeah well, about the other distractions, you’re breaking our alpaca’s heart so don’t be too smug about it.” With that, Misha let himself out of the room. He didn’t look back so he didn’t see Jensen staring after him with a look of surprise and confusion.

 

***

Sometime later Sarge came in with coffee and Jensen called him back, asked him to sit, they talked about his family and long career. “Did you always work here? At this Precinct?” asked Jensen.

 

“Pretty much, since I was 20. Seen most others come and go.”

 

“What was Jared like as a kid?” He didn’t let Sarge see his bright curiosity. He was going to be smooth and stealthy about this, but the Sarge seemed pleased to be able to answer, like a proud father on graduation day.

 

“He was quiet and determined, bright, even back then. You know he was a small kid and scrawny. Can you believe that now?”

 

“No, not really. I don‘t think I‘ll believe you unless I see for myself.”

 

“Pictures we’ve got of him aren’t the pretty sort.” It was said with sadness. “He was 12 when his mother died. His pa got drunk and worked him over. Blamed him. It was cancer that took her, but his pa was well past the point of reasonable. It was the first time, certainly wasn’t the last but damned if Jared was going to admit to it. His pa never got up out of that pit. He just kept drinking. Lost his business, lost their home, moved his kids into the hellhole that was the old Eastside apartments. Those places are gone now or are all done up, like Madison House. If there was any other family to help, they never showed up. That kid was the glue that kept them together. His brother was seventeen and more interested in girls and getting out. His sister was younger and Jared would do anything to make sure she didn’t go hungry. Stole a few times, cans of beans and loaves of bread, how sad is that?

We tried. Social services showed up on a regular basis but those kids were close. They’d disappear until the officer went away or Uncle Hal would miraculously appear. Jeff was 18 before we found out that Uncle Hal was some homeless guy that Jared befriended. He would get scrubbed up and respectable just to stay a few hours and play family. Got to say, the kid was creative, even back then.”

 

“So he spent most of his time here in detention?” asked Jensen.

 

“Oh, no! Most Friday nights his pa would go out, spend what little money they had getting smashed, and end up in the drunk tank. Thing about the drunk tank back then, is that if someone was prepared to take you home and look after you, it was easier to let that happen than go through the whole courts process. Jared would turn up at around 10 p.m. with his schoolbooks and homework. We’d find a space at one of the desks and he’d study until his pa was brought in. We’d leave him here till his father had sobered a little. Most times he left at five in the morning, his pa stumbling along with him.”

 

Jensen wasn’t sure how to react to that, his brow furrowed.

 

“Sounds awful unprofessional now, but you have to look at it practically. The kid could have been cold on the street creating trouble, but he chose to be here. He was safe and warm and most nights he’d help out with notices, coffee and even cleaning up around the cells. Pretty much what he still does, aside from the cleaning, there’s a private cleaner does that nowadays. Most nights someone would treat him to some dinner and send him away with something for his sister to eat.”

 

“Tough deal. It didn’t stop after his pa went away?” Jensen chewed his bottom lip while questions raced in his mind.

 

“Jay was only 16 when Jeff started to get ill. So, he was back again, picking up his big brother. Smoothing things over, reading Jeff’s architect course books, sketching buildings while he waited. He got by, best he knew how, for years. One day he was gone. Him and his brother, just vanished. Four years he was away, no word or sight of him. We never expected to see him back. The day he walked in to the Station, degree in hand and name on a landmark building he got a standing ovation. It could have gone a whole different direction for him.”

 

Jensen raised questioning brows at the Sarge but he sensed the older man clamming up, aware that he had already said too much. “That’s not really my business to comment on. He wants to tell you, he will.”

 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” said Jensen “There’s something puzzling me though.”

 

“What?”

 

“How does a kid with no money, no resources and no family go to University for four years and come back rich enough to buy and refurbish a large apartment building? How did he swing that?”

 

“Investors I would think. His first building was Farra, it made his mark,” replied the Sarge offhandedly.

 

“Yeah, I suppose,” Jensen ran his fingers through his hair keeping his thoughts to himself. He’d checked that trail already. Jared had bought the building at auction, with cash. There were no investors, even during the refurbishment. There were few ways to make that sort of money. Organized crime was one of them.

 

“What do you know about his business? Is there any chance he already knew Caitlin, before Glenview?”

 

He didn’t get an answer. Sarge hadn’t closed the door and a faint cough interrupted his thoughts. Jared was slouched with his shoulder and hip against the door frame, his arms were crossed over his chest, making his T shirt ride up to reveal a thin sliver of golden flesh. The dent of his hips was clear over low slung jeans.

 

It was a provocative pose, one Jensen had seen performed by numerous rent boys in his time on the force. He raised his gaze to Jared’s face, where cat-eyes glittered, seductive and dangerous. Jared pushed himself off the wall gracefully. “I was a very, very good whore,” he purred as he crossed the room, reaching to smooth Jensen’s collar with his long, elegant fingers. “You have _no idea_ how expensive I was.” The tips of Jared’s fingers brushed the skin of Jensen’s neck, enough to be knowing but subtle enough to be imperceptible to anyone else, and Jensen’s breath caught at the tease. Jared moved them then, smoothing the shirt lapel and patting below the collar, just catching the nub of a nipple through the shirt with his huge palm.

 

As he lifted his hand away he broke character, threw his head back and laughed a prankster’s chuckle. The Sarge joined in and some tension dissipated but Jared’s eyes remained locked on Jensen’s, daring him to pursue the subject.

 

“You shouldn’t be in this office Mr. Padalecki,” Jensen didn’t back down from the tall man’s stare.

 

“My apologies. It wasn‘t my intention to bother you. Sarge is needed at the front desk. Just came to find him.” Jared flashed a charming smile as Sarge backed out of the office. He licked his lips and lowered his eyes to stare pointedly at Jensen’s crotch where well fitted pants did little to hide arousal, then looked back locking eyes with the detective once more.

 

“Come in and shut the door Mr. Padalecki.”

 

“Make up your mind Detective Ackles.” It was a lightly sarcastic tone. He did as instructed anyway. Jensen dropped the blinds and stood next to Jared. Later Jared would wonder at the speed and strength the crippled detective possessed. For now, he found himself pinned against the office wall in a familiar position, Jensen’s hand at his neck. He didn’t struggle.

 

Jensen‘s mouth ghosted over Jared‘s neck and up to his ear, breath thrilling his senses. “Don’t fuck with me Jay.” He moved his hand now and cupped Jared’s chin.

 

The younger man made no move to escape the detective’s grasp, instead he angled his mouth toward Jensen’s, his lips parted and wet. Jensen moved in at the invitation, no tenderness, his lips angling over Jared’s, smashing against them. His tongue darted inside the willing mouth, hot and searching, teeth clashing. Jared’s tongue met it, battling, messy and aggressive. Jared moaned and pushed up against Jensen’s groin, hard-on straining for release, until suddenly Jensen drew away. The detective stood back, surveying Jared. The architect was flushed and panting, his lips kissed-pink and his pupils blown. Jensen palmed his own erection through his pants as he stared but his words were pure acid, “For your sake, I hope you haven’t been lying to me Mr. Padalecki.” He moved to open the door. “Maybe the bathroom will be free.” He gestured to the bulge at Jared’s crotch. Now, get out!”

 

Jared’s attention snapped to him, his body sagging and Jensen thought he saw a faint blush of shame join the sex-flushed face, but it passed in seconds and Jared was peeling himself off the wall with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders and striding past him to the door. “When I jerk off, I’ll be thinking of you, jerking off here. Imagine that Detective,” he hissed as he slammed the door behind him.

 

Jensen watched him leave and locked his door. He felt hot, flustered and horny in ways he couldn’t explain. He was annoyed with himself for letting Jared’s obvious posing get to him. _Smooth_ Ackles, he thought, _real professional_. It seemed every time Jared Padalecki entered the equation, Jensen lost his cool and how pathetic was that? He wasn’t going to give Jared the satisfaction, he fought the urge to touch himself, controlled his breath. When that didn’t succeed he reached into his filing cabinet and pulled out a stack of pictures. It had the effect of an instant cold shower but didn’t make him feel any better.

 

His flask was no longer in the drawer. It seemed like a good time to throw the contents of his stationary holder across the room. It landed with a thump and clatter, pens, pencils and paperclips strewn over the floor. He considered the scattered debris for a moment and decided it could be left where it fell. It was Friday and this evening he had better things to do. He grabbed his jacket and left the building.


	23. Chapter 23

Jared gasped as his face scraped against the dank, rough brickwork. The alley smelt of rotting cabbage and piss and the hot breath panting at his neck was thick, laden with smoke and alcohol. A calloused hand pushed at the back of his neck while another snaked around his hips, unbuckling the belt and snapping the fly of his denims open. The hand reached in to grab roughly at Jared’s half hard cock, jacking it until it was swollen and erect. “Get your pants down. Gonna give it to you hard, make it hurt so good you won’t sit for a week.”

 

Two fingers shoved past his lips, “Get ‘em wet. Not gonna waste lube on you.”

 

Jared moaned, his cheeks pinched in as he sucked. He worked his tongue sloppily around the digits before they were pulled back. He whimpered and bucked as they were rammed carelessly into his tight hole and began to work him open.

 

“You want this. Me fucking your slutty asshole? Tell me.”

 

There was the sound of a packet tearing and the snap of rubber. It was a familiar noise, cranking his anticipation for what he _needed_ and he didn’t invite a commentary or want to wait. He wouldn’t remember the man’s face in the morning. “Just do it.”

 

Jared flexed his arms and pushed his hands against the wall, arching his back and hissing. Sweaty hands grabbed his hips, pulling him back onto the thick blunt length as it was pushed into him, right up to the balls, in one rapid movement. It stretched and filled him. The force of the intrusion burned and the pain felt right. Before he had time to adjust there was more movement and raw friction as hips snapped and the thick cock buried into him, repeating harshly in time with the bruising grasp on his hips. Six or seven hard and jerking thrusts was all it took before Jared felt the balls against him pulling up and the man inside him tense and come into the condom. Jared jerked himself off the rest of the way, shooting his load onto the wall in front of him. The man behind him snickered, zipped himself and tossed the used rubber into a nearby dumpster.

 

***

Jensen sucked softly at his earlobe, then pressed small kisses onto his neck and trailed down his back with nips and licks. He slid his fingers over the collarbone and down his arm resting his hand over the other and entwining their fingers. He reached his other hand around the chest to tweak at a nipple before continuing his slow downward journey.

 

“You want this?” Jensen didn't wait for reply, he licked down into the crack and massaged the muscular globes as he parted them, contemplating the sweet pink hole there. He leaned in and lapped at the edge with steady, circular motions but paused to smile as the body he was straddling moaned and writhed beneath him. He inserted one finger, then two, rubbing steadily, spreading lube, gradually reaching deeper and scissoring, the muscle open carefully before progressing to three and exploring the wet, hot channel until a sudden cry of, “Oh God,” let him know that he had found the sweet spot. He continued finger fucking him leisurely, increasing to four fingers, grazing the bundle of nerves to elicit a cry and shiver of ecstasy.

 

“Christ Jen!”

 

Jensen chuckled and removed his fingers, kissing his way back up the glistening muscular back and burying his face in the thick brunette hair to lick and suck at the neck again, taking in the citrus smell of the other man’s shampoo. He’d come to love that smell and he inhaled it deeply. He let go of the hand he was holding and reached over to the nightstand for a packet, ripping it open with his mouth. “Gonna to fuck you now.” He pulled the hips back gently and slid a pillow under his partner.

 

He bit down on Mark's shoulder as his cock made its first intrusion though the ring of muscle and waited till he heard a groan and, “Move Jen”. He slid his cock in till he was buried balls deep in the man. Then he made love with a steady, smooth rhythm, making sure to pass over his prostate, enjoying the needy moans and cries he could elicit. “Touch yourself with me,” he breathed, as he reached around to stroke the swollen cock, dripping with precome. They moved together, wordless and breathless in ever increasing rhythm until they lost control, ragged with need for release. Muscles clenched around Jensen’s cock and come splashed over their fingers, tipping Jensen over the edge into his own orgasm.

 

They rolled together onto their sides, sliding sweaty against each other. Jensen pulled out gently, carefully removing the condom and tying it. He moved wearily to the bathroom to dispose of it and grab a warm face cloth. He sat down on the bed to wipe his partner with care.

 

“Mnng. Should be me doing that,” mumbled Mark.

 

“You work hard for the money, honey,” muttered Jensen into his ear. “Besides you can do it after we go again, in a minute.”

 

“Mmf. You’re insatiable and sadly over optimistic.”

 

“Three is a new record, I guess I can wait for now.”

 

***

Jared took a tissue from his pocket, cleaned himself up and turned around as he fastened his jeans to mutter some form of gratitude but the man was already striding away, throwing a bundle of notes at Jared’s feet.

 

“You’re a good fuck kid.”

 

Jared glanced, stricken, at the money beside him and called down the alley “Hey, I’m not … Dude I’m not a whore.”  But yeah, thought Jared, a _leopard doesn’t change its spots_.

 

He slid through the side door of the bar and walked to the counter where the charity jar stood. He slipped the ground-dirty notes into the neck of the jar and walked away before the barkeep could comment. It gave a whole new meaning to the phrase, ‘charity fuck’.

 

***

Jensen checked the envelope on the nightstand and counted $1,500 into it before pausing and adding $500.00 more. He slipped it quietly into the pocket in Mark’s pants, he hated to draw attention to the transaction. The bed dipped as Jensen got in, and pulled the satin-soft hotel coverlet over them.

 

“You want me to stay the night?”

 

“Sleep!” growled Jensen. He wasn’t offended, he was used to Mark’s respectful enquiry and they both knew Mark didn’t make any other appointments for Tuesday or Friday nights. The shaggy-haired brunette settled on the sheets with a tired groan and shut his eyes. Jensen propped himself up on one elbow, watching the hooker doze. Jensen didn’t love him. It was a selfish need that brought him back to Mark. It was every bit as much of a crutch as alcohol had been.

 

The arrangement couldn’t continue indefinitely. Soon enough he would have to find another way. He snuggled in against Mark’s back, dropping an arm around his waist and pulling him flush to his chest. For tonight though, he would sleep dreamlessly.

 

***

Jared arrived home in the early hours of the morning and glanced at the second floor windows as he slammed the cab door. There was no light on in Jensen’s apartment, he hadn’t expected it. Ever since their fight Jensen strived to avoid him and twice a week, with unfailing regularity, he stayed out, returning serene and obviously fucked-out at lunchtime the next day. Jared had no idea why that should upset him but it did. The guy was 100% pure asshole with a helping of dick on the side but for some reason Jared hated the idea that it was someone else giving Jensen that peace.


	24. Chapter 24

Ellen poured herself a cup of coffee and sat across the table from Jared in the small staff room at Harvelle‘s. “Well you look like Hell, Jay.”

 

“You know how to make a man feel good Ellen.”

 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

 

“I can’t.”

 

“Can’t or won’t Sasquatch?”

 

“Both,” he said morosely, playing with the froth on his coffee.

 

“Well this ain’t about Caitlin because JD tells me she’s doing well, so I’m guessing it’s about Jensen, right Hon?”

 

“Why would it be about Jensen?”

 

“Well. I’m not blind and that there outside is a mover’s truck taking all of Jensen’s belongings and therefore, Jensen, away to a new home.”

 

Jared huffed. “It’s for the best.”

 

“Best for who Jay? Because I’m not seeing a heck of a lot of joy on Jensen’s face either.”

 

“What do you expect of us Ellen? We don’t get along.”

 

“Oh Jared love, you really can’t be that oblivious. The man hasn’t stopped lusting after you since he moved in and if I had to guess I would say you‘re head over heels in love with him.” Ellen raised her voice in exasperation. “Are you going to tell me what your fight was about? Was what he did so unforgivable? Was what you did?”

 

“Can we just stop this now?” Jared moaned quietly at Ellen.

 

“Boy. If you ever want Jo to walk your mutts again, we are finishing this.”

 

“He shouldn’t have done what he did but I suppose in the end it wouldn’t have mattered. He was going to find out what I am one way or another.”

 

Ellen brushed his hair back from his face with her hand, to look into up into his eyes. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears “Oh Hon, and what is it that you think you are?”

 

He shook his head and refused to answer.

 

“Do they pay you?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then that’s not what you are. Are you addicted?”

 

Jared looked confused.

 

“To the sex I mean.” Ellen spoke clinically, “because it’s not like you’re subtle about the hook-ups Jay and I think you need to get your head around this.”

 

“No. I didn’t for a long time. Probably won’t so much when Caitlin comes back.”

 

“So why? What does it do for you?”

 

“It’s just sex. What else is there to say? It makes me feel.”

 

“But a hook up like that, what does it make you feel Jay? It looks more like punishment than pleasure to me. Have you ever wondered why you don’t want to do that with Jensen? You know you could have, and you didn’t take it.”

 

His eyebrows met in the middle of his face and she could see that he was thinking. “I don’t know. I‘m always careful,” he said defensively.

 

“You’re careful with your body Sweetie. How about your emotions? Don’t you think you could feel better with Jensen, take your time and feel it all?”

 

“I‘m not good for anyone. Besides he hates me. He thinks I‘m some sort of Gangster,” Jared was murmuring into his coffee, head bent low.

 

Ellen couldn’t help the upward twist of her mouth. “Jay how could anyone think you’re a gangster? I mean c’mon.”

 

“S’not funny Ellen,” He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, “He really does.”

 

“Well why would he think that?”

 

“Because he can’t find a good reason for me to be as wealthy as I am, because he’s a cop and it’s his job to worry about these things.”

 

“You’re an architect Jay, it’s a well paid job.”

 

“Not that well paid.”

 

“Jared would it be rude to ask how much money we’re talking about? Heck, even if it is rude I’m gonna ask. How wealthy Jared?”

 

He mumbled into his coffee.

 

“You’re gonna have to repeat that Jay.”

 

“Six million, six million dollars in available cash. Okay. Happy now.”

 

“Wow,” she fell silent.

 

“Conversation stopper eh?”

 

She coughed and found her voice again, “So just tell him how you got it.”

 

“He fiddled with the handle of his mug. “I can’t. What I did, it’s not criminal, but I’m not proud of it. Besides, there’s a contract.”

 

“Contract, what sort of contract? Do I have to drag everything out of you Jared Padalecki.”

 

“A legal one. I can’t tell anyone. Ever. Not even a therapist.”

 

“What the hell…?” Her voice trailed off, “That doesn’t sound healthy Hon. How old were you when you signed that contract?”

 

“Old enough,” he sounded resigned. “So I can never have an honest relationship with anyone. Satisfied Ellen? He’s better off forgetting I even exist.”

 

“I’m going to ask you a question Jared and for your own sake I want you to answer it honestly. Truly honestly. Okay?”

 

He nodded mutely, too weary to argue.

 

In all your relationships (and I’m not talking about Chris here because that was just fuck-buddies and neither of you were invested in that partnership) but all your other relationships, family and romantic. How many people have you hurt? I mean really wounded emotionally or physically. Not let down, not disappointed, but deliberately hurt or abandoned?”

 

Jared stared at her and scrunched his face in concentration.

 

“Be honest Jared.”

 

“Jeff,” he said.

 

“You never abandoned him. You always visited Glenview when he was there, you were always there for him at the drop of a hat. Whatever you think you did, it wasn’t deliberate and he was ill, so no, I don’t accept that one.”

 

“Jensen,” he whispered. “I hit Jensen and I was deliberately mean to him.”

 

“I heard he hit you first.”

 

“Because I was mean.”

 

“Anyone else?” She could see he was drawing a blank.

 

“Now. Honestly again. How many times have you been hurt by, or lost, a person you love?”

 

He put down his mug as he started to shake and Ellen moved around the table to join him, putting an arm around his back and hugging him “Oh Hon, you break my heart.” She handed him a tissue, he blew his nose and calmed, eyes red-ringed but not crying.

 

“Tell me Jay, why are you afraid to try with Jensen?” She paused to lock eyes with him. “It’s not really him you’re trying protect is it? Is feeling everything so very scary? Is it the thought of feeling it all and losing it? You need to consider what I’m saying Jared, because never feeling it all, that’s not living.”

 

He nodded and his eyes glittered, the hurt evident in them. “Not a lot I can do about it, even if I agree with you. That’s him gone and I’m pretty sure he’s been dating for weeks now.”

 

“Maybe,” said Ellen softly as she massaged his shoulders, “But it’s not like you won’t see him around. You know, if it’s not meant to be, then another man, another chance, will come along sooner or later and you need to take it. Promise me you’ll give yourself a chance.”

 

Jared nodded bleakly.

 

“Good. In that case I think we should break out a new batch of Rocky Road… Pink or white mallows ...or both?”

 

“Both,” offered the architect.

 

Jared and Ellen were sticky with mallow and chocolate when Jo found them.

 

“Jensen wants to know if Jared is here. He wants to speak to him. He says he’s not angry and it’s important. Shall I tell him to go away?”

 

Ellen glanced at Jared, she could see him fighting the instinct to tell Jo ‘Yes.’ He looked to Ellen, “Will you stay with me?”

 

“If you want me to.”

 

“Tell him to come on through.”

 

Jo bounced back toward the customer seating then turned back in surprise, “Did you just say you’d see him?”

 

“Yes.” said Ellen and Jared together.

 

Jensen cleared his throat nervously as he approached them. He had been practicing this all morning. “I brought these back,” he said, setting the apartment keys on the table. “It really is a nice apartment. I told the Realtor it isn’t close enough to work for me. I don’t want to make it hard for you to find someone else. To rent the apartment I mean.”

 

Jared was bouncing his leg and drumming his fingers nervously. “You know the money,” he blurted out unexpectedly, “All that money I have. I’m not Mafia or anything like that. I didn’t steal it or do anything criminal. It’s just that I can’t say why I have it. It’s a legal thing. Like an out-of-court settlement, compensation, that sort of thing.

 

“Oh. Right,” Jensen didn’t know how to react to the sudden, random statement. He thought it best not to mention that he already knew Jared had paid inheritance tax on his fortune. He’d followed the trail until the red tape of expensive but reputable lawyers had blocked his enquiries. The end result was the same, the mob didn’t pay things like inheritance tax on their ill-gotten gains.

 

“I just didn’t want you thinking that of me. When you’re gone,” Jared explained.

 

“I’ll still be working at the Precinct, won’t you?” asked Jensen. He looked anxious.

 

“You could stay on, at the apartment, if you wanted. I haven’t looked for anyone else,” Jared said, toying with a strand of rebellious hair about his face. 

 

Without thinking Jensen leaned in to Jared and hooked his finger over the stray hair, tucking it behind Jared’s ear. He flinched as he noticed himself doing it but Jared didn‘t seem to mind. “Sorry. Oh. We’re all packed up and the interior designer has finished with my new apartment. It’s a place, y’know, new. You’ll find someone soon enough.”

 

The mover’s truck started its engine with a roar and honked it’s horn. “I have to get going. There’s something else I wanted to say. You may want this to be private.”

 

Jared looked at Ellen, “No, I think anything you have to say Ellen can hear.” 

 

Ellen nodded in support.

 

Jensen held out an envelope to Jared. He took a deep breath and focused on the large hands that now gripped the paper. “I wanted to apologize. I was wrong to do what I did and I regret it. I don’t think any less of you, but I don’t blame you for thinking less of me. I know what I’ve done to get this is wrong too, but I don’t care. I owe you this much.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a prepaid mobile phone. He pressed it into the architect’s hand. “When it rings, I think you should answer it.”

 

The detective nodded to both of them and took his leave. Walking with his cane he made his way out of Harvelle’s and took a deep breath as he reached his cab. “Let’s go,” he said decisively to the driver.

 

Jared looked at the phone and back at Ellen.

 

“Don’t look at me. I don’t know anything.”

 

He placed the phone on the table and ripped the envelope open, tugging out the documents within. He stared down at formal certificate and the neatly typed address, afraid to blink in case it disappeared.

 

“What is it?” asked Ellen.

 

“It’s an adoption certificate. It‘s my sister’s,” And now the dam broke and Jared was crying, fat tears running down his cheek.

 

“You have a sister?”

 

The sound of the phone interrupted his soft sniffles and Ellen handed him another tissue. He passed the paperwork to her and used the tissue, then pressed the ‘answer’ button. He didn’t speak, just listened. “Jared. Is that you?”

 

“It’s me,” Jared managed.

 

“Some detective told me it would be you. You sound strange. If this is a joke it’s not funny.”

 

“Megan? No, Megan wait, it’s me, s’just a surprise. God Megan I’ve missed you.” He broke down totally then and Ellen took the phone from him. “Megan, please just wait, Jared’s a bit emotional right now.”

 

“Tell her we named a kitten Mr. Snuggles and hid it in the laundry cupboard for two days. No-one else knows that,” he hiccupped.

 

There was an excited squeal from the phone. “Oh my God, Jare-bear it really is you. I looked for you. The people we asked, they said you got in a car and never came back. They thought you were dead. I thought you were dead.”

 

Jared panicked and his stomach roiled as he suddenly realized the news he would have to break to his little sister. “No. I’m fine. I did go away, to University, I’m an architect now. Megan, I have to tell you something, is someone with you?”

 

“My mom’s here, my adoptive mom, but Jare, I already know about Jeff.”

 

“How? How long?”

 

“Detective Ackles contacted mom and dad a week ago, explained about Jeff, said you are okay and would like to hear from me. When I first went into care Dad, he was my foster dad back then, he helped me look for you. We kept going back to Eastside for three years but we didn’t find anything. I’m sorry we gave up Jare, I’m so sorry. I moved out to California last year. Mom and Dad came all the way out here for a family meeting to discuss Detective Ackles’ call. Can you imagine that? They‘re good to me, I‘m so lucky.”

 

He couldn’t imagine it. His heart ached for all they had been and there was a stab of guilt, Megan should always have had that. All the years he held on to her, all his scheming to keep them together. Had he kept her from that?

 

Megan continued, as if she knew, “Stop thinking that Jare! Nothing was your fault. If you hadn’t held on as long as you did I’d never have met mom and dad. They were new to fostering, so you made that happen for me big brother.”

 

They continued swapping news and snippets of their life. All at once Megan changed subject, “Why did that detective do this? I mean track me down. Are you in trouble? Is it something to do with dad?”

 

“No. Oh no,” Jared considered it for a moment. “Jensen is my friend, a good friend. I think he did it because he could.” He wished for it to be true as he said it.

 

“He has a lovely voice, is he good looking?”

 

“Megan!”

 

“So, how good friends? Kissing friends?”

 

“God Megan you haven’t changed one bit. No, not kissing friends.”

 

“But you want it to be, don’t you? I can hear it,” her voice sing-songed “Jare’s got a cru-ush.”

 

“I swear I am going to tickle your feet for so long when I get my hands on you.”

 

They both dissolved into giggles. They talked until the phone battery ran low and Ellen was shutting up shop. When they returned to Madison House, Jared had a light his eyes and a bounce in his step that Ellen had never seen.

 

“Well,” she said as they stood at the base of the sweeping staircase, “Sometimes you do get a second chance with the ones you think you’ve lost. I’ll see you later Sweetie, but if you need to talk, you know where I am.”

 

***

 

Jensen stepped under the security camera and waited for the Concierge to release the door catch. It buzzed and he pushed on the plain glass and steel door. His steps were noiseless as he crossed the plush cream carpet to collect his keys. The lobby smelt of disinfectant and canned perfume. The walls were clean, bright cream and there were spotlights in the low, white ceiling, “Welcome Home Sir,” the Concierge proffered without lifting his eyes.

 

“I’m Jensen.”

 

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Ackles. If you need anything, any time, just ring down and I’ll be pleased to assist. I‘m Malcolm.”

 

“It’s Jensen,” he insisted. “Can I ring down and ask you to fix my love life?” He smirked at the man.

 

Malcolm looked humorlessly at him over wire-rimmed, half moon glasses, “I meant if you need anything to do with the building.”

 

“Right. Awkward. I’ll just get on with moving-in then.”

 

He rode the sleek, mirrored elevator up to the third floor and crossed the hallway to the ‘chic, well appointed, new-build apartment, ideal for the modern professional’ that he had purchased, without a single viewing, the day after he fought with Jared.

 

He made a coffee and settled himself on the couch as soon as it was placed. He flicked his mobile open and dialed, “Mac?”

 

“Jen. Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine. I just wanted to chat. I don’t do that enough. I miss you Sis.” 


	25. Chapter 25

Jensen sat in his usual pose, hunched over his desk peering at his screen when Misha breezed in, threw his arms around him and smacked a loud messy kiss onto the back of his neck.

 

“Crap! What is that for?” He rubbed the slobber off with his hand and then searched through his pocket looking for a tissue to wipe his hand on.

 

“Did I mention how much I love working with you, Detective Ackles? I have become a real-life, fictional movie cop.”

 

“Do I want an explanation?”

 

“I get to work with the angst-ridden and grumpy but golden-hearted, disabled detective AND I get an investigation where real-life thugs lean on me with threats of harm and ruin. I was hoping they would be Mafia with the whole blacked up limousine and kidnap deal, but it turned out they’re FBI. Heavy-duty, high-end witness protection type FBI and they REALLY wanted me to back off the Riordan thing.”

 

“So you backed off and you need me to talk to them?”

 

“You‘ve got to be kidding. It’s the most exciting thing to happen to me forever and it made me ever so curious, so I called in a few favors and…”

 

He slapped a pile of documents onto the least crowded part of the desk.

 

“What sort of favors? No, no don’t answer that, it could scar me.”

 

“I have this incredibly discreet carpenter, the stuff he can make for the bedroom Jen. Really sturdy with these attachments. People are always grateful for an introduction. If you ever want his number...”

 

“MISHA! I meant what I said about scarring.”

 

“Oh right. Anyway. Turns out there was a survivor to the Riordan massacre. They had a daughter. I found a reference to her being at the scene in the very first local report. After that, nothing, none of the other reports mentioned her. Her birth and baptism records are gone, but get this, Ma and Pa Riordan announced her birth in the local rag. Katherine Elise Riordan, born 1975, made poor little orphan at the age of 6.

Two weeks after the massacre Katherine Elise’s maiden aunt adopted a six year old girl, who she named Evelyn Matthews. The adoption records are sealed. I can’t get near them. The kid was bundled off to England to attend boarding school, where she was appointed an English guardian and there is no record of her ever returning. There was an Evelyn Matthews at a Bryony Lodge School at the right time. I’ve a contact at Scotland Yard who I met when..."

 

Jensen glared at him.

 

“Anyway, never mind, he’s going to find out more.”

 

Jensen sat back in his chair and rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m struggling with where I’m going with this. Do we think that this whole family thing has started back up now Evelyn is all grown up? She would certainly be pissed off about it all. Maybe Caitlin is a Murphy. Where the pimp and his client fit in, I have no idea.”

 

Misha nodded, “Maybe Caitlin is Evelyn. The Doc said the Multiple Personality thing usually has a trauma trigger in childhood. This would count as traumatic. Maybe the Murphys tried to finish the job. Maybe they took the guys out as a lesson, or to frame her.” He cocked his head and added, “She drinks a lot of tea. From a teapot. We could find out if she likes cucumber sandwiches and PIMMS.”

 

Jensen shot him another stern glare and he put up his hands, “Just brainstorming here. Talking of that, I spoke to Chad earlier. He said that nothing came of that little undercover meet they organized. Some middle-aged BDSM couple showed up expecting a safe little role play. On the plus side he thinks they’re getting somewhere with the nursery school teacher but you’ll have that e-mail.”

 

Misha left Jensen alone in order to solve the crimes of his own City. Jensen stared at the wall trying to make sense of all the information whirling in fragments about his brain. It wasn’t helped by the urge he had to look for Jared. He had this ridiculous hope that the architect would search him out, take him in those strong warm arms and forgive him with a candy-flavored kiss. He found himself making numerous excuses to open his door and walk around the station, reading the notice boards until he knew every announcement by heart, but Jared hadn’t dropped into the Precinct, in fact it seemed to Jensen that he must be deliberately avoiding the place.

 

Sometime during the afternoon Jensen’s mobile bleeped and he palmed it to take the message, ‘Can we meet at Milligan's 2night? Got news to discuss if ur willing. Mark.’ He stared at the message, gathering his thoughts before replying, a quick confirmation that he agreed to the change.

 

***

Jared had a backlog of work and his concentration had gone to hell in the days since he found out about Megan. His mind wandered between the joy he was feeling at being reunited with his little sister and the other emotions it stirred. He hadn’t been to see his dad since the initial arraignment, hadn’t bothered to be there for the sentencing or see him in jail and now he didn’t know how he felt about him. The talk with Ellen had raised issues too.

 

All the painful memories which he thought he had permanently buried had swirled and surfaced, all pushing for his attention. Then there was the question of _Jensen_ and that was something he really couldn’t afford to think about right now.

 

He printed out drawings and checked measurements, made some enquiries about the thickness of some custom-made steel panels and settled down to answer all his emails. By late afternoon he was starting to catch up.

 

There was a knock at the door and someone came into the small lobby. Jared kicked the floor to propel his wheeled chair into a space where he could better see who had arrived. He wasn’t expecting anyone.

 

There was a young man stood awkwardly in the outer office. He was dressed in plain jeans and tee-shirt and was almost as tall as Jared, with a shock of shaggy brunette hair, bangs partly obscuring his face. His brown eyes were set in a fine-featured face with a wide mouth, which was open in a bright wide smile. He was holding out one of Jared’s own business cards as if it were some sort of offering. “You’re JT. We’ve met. You gave me this. You asked me to come to you if I could help. You were asking around, about Jane Doe, said if I had any information, I should call. I should have called but this seemed better. Do you mind?”

 

The architect forced himself to shut his mouth and continued rolling the chair until he was sitting level with the man. “No! Stay! Shit, it’s just unexpected. That was ages ago. Got to be at least four months back. Sit. Please sit,” he tapped the couch. “Would you like a soda or some coffee.”

 

“No. I’m fine, I won’t be long.”

 

“Right yeah. Do I know you?” The young man seemed very familiar but he couldn’t place where he’d met him.

 

“Let’s just say we go to a lot of the same places. I’ve seen you around. If you don’t remember that’s fine, I’m Mark.”

 

“Well, hi Mark. I should ask what you want. I mean what it is you think I will pay for what you’ve got? I can pay but I don’t do favors or drugs or any of that shit. Just so we’re on the right page.”

 

Mark scowled and he got up from the couch, “I don’t want anything. If you’re going to be a dick you can go to hell.”

 

“Fuck no. I’m just not good at this. I apologize okay. Please stay, if not for me, for her.”

 

“It’s alright, you’ve always been a bit of a prick. I’m doing this for me, because it’s the right thing. Not for you. Not for anyone else. I‘m leaving, I got myself a job, a real one. I’m going to be out of here, away from all of it.”

 

Jared nodded his understanding, “That’s real good Mark. What was it you wanted to tell me?”

 

Mark took a deep breath and spoke steady and clear. “Jane was a mess when she hit the streets. Couldn’t get decent business so she took what she could, the low end stuff. She never said no, barely spoke. Some of the girls chased her off, teased her and beat her. They made fun of her name, so she showed them. She had one of those thin plastic bands that they give you when you’re admitted to hospital. I never saw it but one of the girls said it was for a place she’d never heard of and it had John in the name. The bitch thought it was hilarious.” He shook his head at the memory.

 

“Mark, that really is helpful, thank-you.”

 

“No. Wait. There’s more. The cuts she has. The ones on her body. She didn’t have them when she arrived. She was battered and scarred, but the cuts, she got them from a John a couple of weeks after she started here. Like I say, she never said no. It’s what made Alec want her. She may have been beat-up and a little crazy but the Johns pay good money for a sub who won’t safe-word. There’s some say the guy had a knife-kink and she asked him for it. Asked for that precise pattern, even drew it out for him, but the street is full of liars, so I don’t know. I got his license plate. He’s a regular with Alec’s girls.” He handed a folded slip of notepaper to him. “There’s something else Alec’s girls agree on, but like I say you can’t trust anyone in that business.”

 

“What do they say Mark?” Jared encouraged.

 

“They all say she did it, that it was her cut Alec up and that other guy before him. Alec was furious when he got home from the hospital, took it out on his other girls, hurt some of them real bad.”

 

Jared struggled to keep his face neutral, “It’s good you’re getting out Mark.”

 

“I never said I was one of them.”

 

“No you didn’t and I trust you,” Jared smiled.

 

“I should go now. Don’t want to be here too long, I’ve got to pack up.”

 

“Wait, will you at least let me give you a token. It’s not much, just something someone gave me when I first got off the street.” Jared looked steadily at Mark, “We’re not going to pretend we don’t know what I mean by that, are we?”

 

Mark returned his gaze and nodded. “Okay. Yeah.”

 

The tall man reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a slim velvet case. He opened it and handed it to Mark. Mark accepted it in open hand and fingered the elegant silver pen with the other. He turned it to read the fine engraving, “Design your own future.”

 

He closed the case and looked quizzically at Jared, “So why do you go back?”

 

The architect looked shocked.

 

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve seen you and I want to know, because I don’t want to. Not ever. Go back, that is. I want to understand.”

 

“Honestly. I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure that out too, but I think you’ll be okay. I don’t think you’ll go back.”

 

“Well good luck, with the Jane thing.” With that, Mark slipped the pen carefully into his pocket. He took out his mobile phone and looked at the screen. He gave Jared a quirky grin. “There’s extra cop patrols at the park right now, you should probably stick to Milligan's tonight,” he said as he stepped out onto the street.


	26. Chapter 26

The message came in a 4:15 p.m., too short to convey the gravity of its message, never enough to encompass the grief of parents, family and friends. The bodies of Fay Greenway and Nancy Albright had been found and everything that Jensen had predicted was proving heart wrenchingly true. He skimmed the details and pinned them to his ever increasing wall of information. He would examine it later, rake over the minutiae. For now they had another lead. He printed the camera stills he had made and studied them.

 

The van was unremarkable, white with black lettering ‘Painter’s Mobile Snacks’. What made it interesting was the two separate schools it was pictured at, the dates, and the grainy image of Fay Greenway purchasing something from the man stood by the van, with the faint blurry image of a dark haired woman offering something to a small child in the background of one of the stills.

 

He sank a pin through the photograph and moved on to the mug-shot of James Painter, a 45 year old ex-con, with a record for aggravated assault, sexual assault and battery. There were no pictures of James’ wife. She had no convictions, was barely a blip on the radar with Baltimore Police. There was a note that her middle-class parents, a builder’s merchant and a nurse, had made a complaint to local police, reported her missing at 18. They had been shocked and appalled that their intelligent, well educated daughter had run-off with a rough, uneducated man almost twice her age. It was a familiar family drama enacted nationwide on a daily basis. The girl confirmed she had left willingly and the family was left to deal with the fall-out on their own. That was ten years ago and the only recent pictures police had of Emma Painter were grainy stills, back to the lens, from street cameras opposite two schools. Descriptions of her were sketchy at best, slight build, dark hair, dark eyes, a pale face and a quiet demeanor. The Baltimore office joked that they were looking for a 28 year old, cookie-baking psychopath, and that description filled Jensen with an irrational disquiet.

 

There was nothing more that could be achieved for the day. Jensen ran his hands through his hair and palmed his face. He breathed deeply, reminding himself that the day’s events, while sad and horrifying in equal measures, also represented progress. There was a glimmer of hope that, given the right circumstances The Game could be stopped for good. It was a Tuesday. He would go home and rest, grab a meal and get changed to meet Mark at Milligan‘s. He would listen to his news and fake surprise. He would encourage him to walk away and pretend he didn’t need him.

 

***

 

It was Tuesday. Jared surveyed the Glenview parking and noting that there were no spaces he haphazardly directed his SUV into a gap, half on the grass, half over the ‘no parking lines’. It would probably earn him a ticket but it wasn’t blocking anyone’s route.

 

The evening air was becoming chilly. Jared slipped a jacket on as he walked away from the car. A car door opened as he walked beside it and Jared had to sidestep quickly, almost losing his balance. A man emerged, cigarette in hand. “Sorry man. Y’okay.” Jared nodded affirmation and carried on walking, picking up pace a little. Something about the way the man looked at him unnerved him, but he couldn’t say what it was.

 

Visiting Caitlin had become easy, a pleasure even. Since waking from her coma she was chatty and bright, newly confident. Dr. Carver was pleased with her physical and emotional progress, the straightening of her posture and establishment of eye contact but there was apparently no improvement in her memory. The Doc held off from discharging her, he was keen to make progress in drawing out Caitlin’s real personality and he sensed that he was close with this new, improved version. Jane and Emma no longer surfaced, even during sessions. On more than one occasion, while she sipped coffee in his office, he asked Caitlin outright about her identity, challenged her to tell him about herself but she had looked puzzled and laughed at him. If she was faking it, he couldn’t tell.

 

Of course there was another reason the Doc didn’t discharge Caitlin yet. He observed Jared pulling his truck into the parking lot with scant regard for rules and cross to the door. His expression was distant, lost in thought and if the Doc had been asked to voice his opinion bluntly, he would say he looked like crap. As he crossed the threshold the Doc watched Jared’s features rearrange as he forced a smile and painted his game-face on. _Another week at least_ , the doctor thought. JD had offered to take Caitlin for short trips outside the facility to re-familiarize her with everyday life. The Doc had observed JD with Caitlin and was confident of his ability to cope with her if necessary. Secretly he was relieved to see some of the responsibility for her care shifting away from Jared. Sometimes he thought that Jared was in more need of therapy than his patient.

 

Ben Carver met briefly with Jared after the visit and was apprised of the information he had been given by Mark, earlier that day. The Doc reassured him that he would find the best way to approach the issue of Caitlin's scars but that it would have to be explored. They spoke briefly about the admission bracelet but he wasn’t optimistic, the sheer number of facilities with the name John in the title made it unlikely they would track the exact one down.

 

Jared went home, ran with his dogs, then showered and dressed to go out. He had an itch to scratch.


	27. Chapter 27

Milligan's was busy but not crowded, there was noisy chatter and insipid 90’s music beat a rhythm in the background. The air was heavy with the scent of raw humanity, smoke and alcohol. There were tables awash with spilled beer and the debris of half eaten snacks. Jensen braced himself not to run and not to look at the counter. He wasn’t sure he could do this. Mark waved from seats at the rear of the dimly lit bar, mostly hidden to others but with a good view of everything within the room. The detective made his way across and removed his jacket before sitting on a stool by the young man and grinning lasciviously. “Those jeans Mark, they look good on you. Really they do.”

 

“Save it,” grinned Mark. “I bought you a soda.”

 

“Seriously? Did you have to pick a bar dude?”

 

“It’s home turf. I told you I had something I wanted to discuss.”

 

“Man, if you picked this place to tell me you’re upping your rates, I can tell you without reserve, it’s a mistake. This may be homey to you but it sure isn’t classy.” They both watched as a busty blonde emerged from the rest rooms with an older guy, both sweating and flushed, her blouse unbuttoned and rumpled.

 

“You may have a point there, but I’m not upping my rates. In fact I’m not going to be having any rates.”

 

“You want to rely on donations?”

 

“Can you quit with the smart remarks and get with the program Jensen Ackles? Because I’m pretty sure you know exactly what it is I have to tell you.”

 

“I do?” Jensen was squirming uncomfortably now. He really needed a drink. Just the one surely couldn’t harm.

 

Mark put out a hand and steadied him. “Concentrate on me,” he said. “I need to know some things. They‘re probably way past what I have a right to ask my client but I think we passed that marker some time ago, don‘t you?”

 

“Okay. Shoot.”

 

“Do you think you’re in love with me?”

 

“Wow. That's a question I wasn’t expecting Mark. I mean there’s no tactful way to answer that.”

 

“I just need to know the truth and I think you’re the sort of person who will give it. The answer isn’t going to upset me, whichever way it goes. I’m not Julia Roberts.”

 

“I care, I think you’re amazing, good-looking and talented and I do mean talented in so many ways,” Jensen paused, “I see you. I don’t just see the sex.”

 

“But?”

 

“No, I don’t love you.”

 

“Good. Do you have ambitions to be a sugar-daddy Jensen?”

 

“What? NO! Why would you even ask that?”

 

“I got offered a job. Out of the blue. An e-mail to my writing journal asked me to consider working for some Publishing House. Apparently someone has been reading my work and they liked it. Don’t get me wrong, it was all kinds of flattering but all kinds of creepy too. I mean, I write porn, it has to be some insane sex attacker doesn’t it? So I asked for confirmation and references from them.”

 

Jensen laughed, a whole body, belly laugh, “You asked them for references?”

 

“Dude. It’s the internet. You can’t believe the scammers. The thing is, it checked out. It’s a small firm, in California, dealing in erotic literature, mostly for the LGBT market. It’s respectable and legit and you know what else it is?”

 

“What else is it?”

 

“It’s a wholly owned subsidiary of Ackles Corp, Mr. Ackles.”

 

“You do your homework.”

 

“So do you. The job includes time off for me to study. I should get used to homework don’t you think? There‘s also the question of the apartment they have earmarked at reasonable rates and the travel expenses they would pay. So tell me Jensen Ackles, what do you get out of this?”

 

This wasn’t going the way Jensen had been expecting, “Do I look like some crazy stalker Mark?”

 

“Right now, I have to say yes. How would you even know that I’m going to be any good in a proper job. Does my boss expect sex?”

 

“Oh ew, I hope not, she has to be sixty five, if she’s a day. No-one expects anything apart from a neat, well organized, and creative individual which you’ve already proven to me you are.”

 

“I’m a hooker, Jensen.”

 

“One. You are always appropriately dressed, I might add hot as well but that isn’t going to impress you right now. Two. You organize your schedule and invoicing tactfully and efficiently. You have never let this client down or been late. Three. Your writing is off the scale talented. Four. You have superb business sense, aptly demonstrated by your approach to this whole thing. You asked for references dude! How much more businesslike can you be? Five. You’re right, my name is there in the company documents and I don‘t screw with the company reputation for personal reasons. You may want to rephrase your previous employment to escort, entertainment operative or between work.”

 

“Everyone wants something.”

 

“You saved my life. Probably more than once and...” the detective sighed, lifted his soda to his mouth and took a gulp. “This would be easier if I could have a proper drink.”

 

“Not going to happen on my watch. I’ve seen you. Remember?”

 

Jensen skimmed the room with his eyes while inwardly searching to find some way to say how he felt. What he found was Jared. Jared in paint-on-tight black jeans, a faded black wife-beater and leather bracelets. Jared laughing, neck thrown back as some douche whispered a proposal in his ear and slipped one dirty hand roughly into the front of his jeans, the other onto his ass, groping and leering at him. Jared putting his bottle of beer down and allowing himself to be led by the buckle of his belt, into the questionable rest rooms.

 

Still staring, Jensen replaced his soda on the table and missed. The bottle clattered to the floor spilling sticky liquid and fizzing white froth. He grabbed at some napkins and mopped up the mess, his eyes didn’t leave the rest room door.

 

Mark slammed his beer bottle on the table loudly. “Still here!” He said, “So what do you want? Because I’m thinking it’s something I can’t give you.”

 

“I need,” Jensen started, “I think I just need for you not to be here. For me not to need you. Does that make sense? I‘m sorry, please don’t be offended.”

 

Mark nodded slowly, a slight smile on his lips, “I think it makes a lot of sense. No offense taken.” He lifted his beer to his mouth. “If you don’t want him to see you, you should get another soda now. JT doesn‘t do foreplay, or after-play for that matter.”

 

“You know him?”

 

“He’s Jared. Interesting name isn’t it? Not a name commonly shouted during sex with me, but there’s a lot of folks say we look alike. There’s some say I get picked up for that likeness. He’s a good looking guy. Course what I ask payment for, he gives away, so there’s days he’s screwed my trade, quite literally,” he laughed but his eyes weren’t smiling. “You know when trade is quiet I’ve been known to people-watch. My line of business,” and he corrected himself, “My former line of business, it’s important to be able to read people, judge what they need without being told.”

 

Jensen was picking at a napkin and dropping small curled pieces of paper to the floor, his eyes still scanned the area near the rest room door. “It worked with me,” he commented.

 

“The ones who say JT is like me have it all wrong. When I tout for business, I retain control. I keep it safe. I don’t take chances and I’m not looking for anything. It’s all about the cash. JT is the opposite. He’s not asking for cash because he’s doing it for the danger and he craves the submission. He wants someone else to take control, he needs to give something of himself away, but however much he gives to strangers, he always comes back. It’s never enough, he never gives enough, never finds what he needs. You know what I think?” He leaned over to Jensen and looked him in the eye. “I think he needs someone who cares enough to work out what he’s missing, take control from him and tell him what he’s going to do about it. He needs someone who will keep that control over him, stay with him and follow it through.”

 

“Why are you telling me this?”

 

“Because I’ve worked out what it is _you_ want, and it’s JT.”

 

Jensen was glad he hadn’t purchased another soda. If he’d been holding a bottle it would have slid to the ground, he seemed to have lost control of his limbs and voice. He finally turned his attention away from the rest room door and looked aghast at the man quirking eyebrows at him and drinking beer with him. He wanted to argue, say it wasn’t true but he couldn’t find a way to lie to him. “If this works out,” he found himself saying, “You are definitely on my Christmas Card list.”

 

The rest room door banged as Jared returned to the bar with mussed hair, pink cheeks and over-red lips. The man who had accompanied him patted his ass, grabbed another beer and returned to the catcalls of his friends, leaving him standing alone. Jensen flexed his fist. It was _wrong_ and he felt humiliated and angry all at once for the architect who he once called his friend, but Jared stood, cool and unruffled at the bar drinking his beer, relaxed and provocative.

 

Mark picked up his belongings and pushed his stool back to the table. “This job, I’m going to make a go of it. Fire me if I don’t make the grade, but if you try to screw me over in any way or if anyone asks me for unrelated favors, I will bring the press down on you, and I promise the Ackles name will get dragged through the mud.”

 

Jensen smiled, wide and cheesy, “You‘re going to be such an amazing businessman Mark.”

 

He watched Mark leave and turned his attention back to the bar but Jared was already on the move. A burly, bearded man with a prominent belly had his wrist wrapped in his pudgy hand and was pulling him back toward the rest room. Jared’s face was completely neutral. There was neither passion nor fear in his expression. Jensen waited a few seconds, willing Jared to shout at the man, to shake his wrist free and return to the bar, but the rest room door opened and they were swallowed from view. He recalled Jared’s own words the night he rejected Jensen’s advances, _“Sugar, with me, everyone’s like that.”_ He remembered his inability to comprehend an offer of friendship without sex. The realization that this wasn’t a one-time deal, the stark reality of the data on his computer, everything he knew about the gentle giant struck him like a punch in the gut. Jared was missing a childhood. Did he have any concept of real affection?

 

Jensen didn’t know if he could live up to Mark’s expectations, but as the rest room door stayed shut he felt the anger and frustration build in him. He’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try.

 

***

 

Jared could still taste the sickly sweet raspberry of the condom the first man had used. He hadn’t got his name, just a mouthful of dick and a hand pulling his head forward, tangling his hair, forcing the cock deep into his throat. He took it balls deep first time, his gag reflex gone since thirteen, when, desperate to retain their damp, rundown home, he had first taken to his knees, shivering but compliant for the bug-eyed rent-collector.

 

He had worked his tongue around the balls and along the length, let the man fuck into his throat. He was good at this, and the man had moaned his approval. He had sucked the thick cock, allowing saliva to dribble from his lips, rubbing it into the man's inner thighs with the pad of his thumb until the stranger moaned unintelligibly, and shot into the condom. The man pulled away then, cleaned himself up and zipped up. Jared got off his knees and made for the exit, untouched and still limp. It didn’t matter, he knew he’d given good head. Maybe next time there would be something more.  He returned to sip at his beer as the man groped his ass and returned to his whooping friends.

 

When the middle aged man with the beer belly suggested that they could explore the concept of heaven together he was skeptical but why judge a book by its cover? He did what he always did and followed him. “Top or bottom?” the guy asked and he replied, “Bottom,” and found himself maneuvered, face against the stall wall, thick hands tugging at his waistband, beery breath on his neck. He heard a zipper being lowered. The rest-room door opened with a crack, and movement ceased behind him. He heard the zipper again and the guy behind him stuttering, “No, it’s not like that, please I’ve got a wife.” Then another voice, gravelly and familiar, “Get out!”

 

Jared turned to see the door closing and Jensen Ackles standing behind him, his badge in hand. He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re busting me? Really? What sort of a stalker are you Ackles?”

 

The detective was staring at him, flicking his eyes over his face then down his body and Jared, though fully clothed, felt suddenly naked. Badge back in his pocket, Jensen’s hand reached up to Jared’s mouth and the tips shushed against his mouth. “Don’t say anything. Don‘t do anything.” Jensen leaned in to him, one shoulder against the stall wall to steady himself, and kissed Jared’s neck so softly his lips barely touched. He repeated it, so carefully, so gently along the line of his jaw to his ear and along his collar bone. Jensen trailed his tongue back up to Jared’s Adam’s apple and sucked soft and unmarking, on its nub. Then, pressing butterfly kisses over his chin he made his way to press a chaste kiss to his lips. His fingers stroked the younger man’s cheek and carded through his hair. He had his eyes closed, inhaling Jared’s scent, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek and Jared watched, confused and mesmerized, feeling every touch with an electric intensity. He moaned and reached down to Jensen’s belt, fumbling with his buckle. The slap on his hand was unexpected and shocking, “I said don’t do anything.” Green eyes locked onto hazel, “You don’t get to cheapen this.”

 

“I knew you’d be a toppy bastard.”

 

“I said, don’t say anything!”

 

Jared felt Jensen tense just before he found himself pinned against the wall, the detective using all his strength to hold him, no care now that his knee lodged against the architect’s groin. “You’re not going to leave me high and dry again, detective?” It was intended as a challenge but it became a quiet and broken plea.

 

“Sshh,” Jensen breathed as his lips searched out Jared’s again, latched on with care sliding smoothly against them. Then he was sucking on Jared’s bottom lip and they were both moaning into each other’s mouth, tongues entwining lazily. The door banged and they jumped as a surprised voice apologized, “Sorry. I didn’t realize there was anyone here.”

 

Jensen hmmed and drew back, letting Jared’s arms down. He looked Jared in the eyes and spoke in a honey deep growl. “It’s okay we were just leaving.” He looped one arm around Jared’s neck and pulled him in for a quick, full-lipped kiss. This gorgeous man is going home with me.” He grabbed his stick with one hand, Jared’s belt loop with the other and tugged. “Remember. Not a word,” he said, commanding and serious, as Jared opened his mouth ready to protest. The tall man considered the older man and his green-gold eyes for a brief moment, shut his mouth and let himself be manhandled to the sidewalk and into a cab.


	28. Chapter 28

They tumbled out of the cab together. Jared steadied Jensen, one hand resting under his shirt, a large palm caressing the firm lines of his back and shoulders. Jensen was leaning in to him, arm squeezing possessively around Jared’s waist and up to his shoulder making his top ride up. It was utterly distracting and made him want to lick the enticing sliver of flesh that peeked from the gap. It would be the next day before Jensen realized he‘d left his cane in the cab.

 

Jared pressed light kisses to the top of Jensen’s head and they fell against the door of plate glass and steel, lips sliding across skin, hands exploring. “Have you any idea how beautiful you are?” Jensen said as he looked at Jared in wonder, green eyes blazing. “Want to have you, feel you, cherish you. Please let me Jay.”

 

“We should go in now,” gasped Jared and he smiled at Jensen. It was wide, unguarded and full dimpled and _fuck, Jesus Christ, damn_ , Jensen had never seen anything so bright and infectious in his life.

 

They made it through the door, laughing as it opened unexpectedly. Jared gripped tight to the older man, not letting him fall. As they stumbled through the lobby Jared took in the bland surroundings, wrinkled his nose and looked down at Jensen, “You’re living _here_?”

 

“I said sshhh. Besides what’s wrong with here?”

 

Jared indicated a zipped lip with his fingers and rolled his eyes.

 

“Okay. I give in. Tell me what’s wrong with here.”

 

“Soulless dude, you’ve gotta be soulless,” he shook his head in an exaggerated motion.

 

“Okay you can shut up again now.” 

 

The elevator dinged as the doors slid open and they got in. As the doors closed Jensen pushed up against Jared, nibbling at his ear. Jared leaned back into the side of the elevator car, exposing his neck to him, with the elevator controls pressing into the small of his back. There was a slight jolt and the car came to a halt but there was no floor indicator lit and the doors didn’t open. Jensen sucked at the flesh just below Jared’s ear, pushing against his leg. “I saw you, with those other men. Made me crazy Jay, to think of you like that. Worth so much more.”

 

The clang of an alarm cut him short.

 

“Um Jen. Permission to speak? I think I pressed too many buttons.”

 

“Pressed all of mine,” Jensen joked but drew back and prodded Jared in the rib, “Move, I think the emergency phone is behind you.”

 

Jensen made the call, then put the phone back on its hook, “Thirty minutes apparently.”

 

Jared gave a sly grin, “There’s a lot we can do in thirty minutes.”

 

Gentle fingers shushed his lips again as Jensen whispered, “Not going to cheapen it, remember. Not going to rush. Want you laid out for me on silk sheets Jay. Want you there, debauched and delicious. Now sit with me.”

 

He sat on the floor, back to the wall, facing the mirrored wall opposite. Jared moved to sit beside him but Jensen spread his legs wide and indicated for Jared to sit between them. He wrapped his arms around the younger man's waist and pulled him, slouched low, against his chest. Jared bent his knees so the width of the elevator would accommodate them. He fidgeted a little before getting comfortable and he could see, reflected, a slight wince of pain from the detective behind him. He stilled, realizing this wasn’t the most practical position for the detective, but it felt warm and safe to him.

 

He rested against Jensen’s shoulder and relaxed as a kiss was pressed to the top of his head and gentle fingers threaded through his hair. It felt like hope and promise, and he wanted to stay like this. They remained quiet in each others' company for a while before Jensen spoke. “Did you even get off Jay? You can answer,” his voice was smooth and quiet. Jared squeezed his eyes shut and didn’t answer. 

 

“Look at me. Jay,” there was an edge of command.

 

He opened his eyes now and considered Jensen in the mirror. “No.” he huffed, closing them again.

 

“Then why?”

 

“I don’t know.” He didn’t open his eyes, his features scrunched up, his breath quickened and he tensed.

 

Jensen smoothed his hand under Jared’s tee-shirt to rest it over his heart, feeling the rapid movement of his chest. “I’m going to fix you,” he whispered in Jared’s ear, “and you’re going to let me.”

 

Jared breathed out now, a long sigh as his muscles relaxed and his heart stopped racing. It was a long time since anyone had done that for him. “I think I want you to try,” he murmured.

 

“Turn around. I want you to kiss me.”

 

Jared shifted carefully so he was on his knees, his face looking down into green eyes, long lashes and full pink lips. He took Jensen’s face into his hand lifting it, and rubbing a thumb gently over the jaw line, he placed small kisses over the freckles on Jensen’s nose. “Jensen.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“It’s not a bad thing if you’re a toppy bastard.”

 

“You like that?”

 

“With you. Yeah. ”

 

“Shut up and kiss me Jay.”

 

They didn’t notice the elevator moving or the doors opening. The sound of someone clearing their throat and then coughing alerted them to the presence of Malcolm. Red-cheeked with embarrassment and peering over his glasses the concierge announced that they’d reached the third floor. His eyes looked everywhere but at the two tangled men locked in heated embrace at the base of the elevator car. Jared got up first and smoothed his top down, then offered his hand to Jensen, lifting him easily. Jensen gave an innocent smile to the concierge. “He’s an architect you know, he was explaining all about the lift shaft.”

 

Jared fluttered long lashes over doe eyes adding, “He’s a detective, you can trust everything he says.”

 

Malcolm opened his mouth and closed it again without uttering a word. Jensen clutched an arm around Jared’s waist and guided him to his apartment. “Thanks for the rescue,” he called to Malcolm, and they disappeared into Jensen’s apartment.

 

***

“Sit, while I grab some things,” Jensen motioned to his sofa and Jared sat obediently, perched on the edge and anxious. He caught the remote as it whizzed toward his hand, the detective had a good aim. “Flick through, find us some porn, or sports.”

 

“I thought we were…”

 

“Sshh. You need to trust me. Do you need a gag?” He watched Jared’s shock at the suggestion change to something more amused and aroused. He filed the information in his head for later use. He grabbed bottles of water from the fridge and, with his hand to the wall, he padded through to his bedroom with them. He switched the light on in his bathroom and riffled through the contents of the cupboards.

 

Jared found sports highlights and had settled into the couch when something soft landed on his head, blocking the light.

 

“I found the spare towels. Go get a shower. I’ve put a new toothbrush and mouthwash out for you.”

 

Jensen could see Jared about to question him and forestalled it. “I only want to go to bed with you, not everyone you’ve been with tonight.” He softened a little when he saw the hurt in the younger man’s eyes, “It’s okay you couldn’t know we’d be dating, could you?” Jared was pleading with his eyes to be allowed to speak now. You can say something if you don’t want that Jay. You can just say it and leave, because I’m not looking for a one night stand here. I’m not looking for long term commitment. I’m not even asking to be exclusive but I want us to try for something.”

 

Jared nodded, as if in a daze and made for the bathroom.

 

Jensen grabbed his mobile phone and clicked at buttons, sending a text. He smoothed fresh white silk sheets over the bed and lit the decorative candles floating in what looked like a goldfish-bowl of water. They smelt of vanilla and the scent filled the air. Maybe the interior designer had turned out to be useful for something after all. The phone rang and he stepped out of the bedroom to answer it.

 

When he came back into the room, Jared was standing by the bed, his towel barely covering his torso. He was drying his hair with another towel, his muscles rippled as he moved and droplets chased down his golden skin. A moan escaped from Jensen and Jared turned to look at him through tousled wet hair. The green-eyed man moved into his personal space and placed his hands on his hips, thumbs rubbing at the indents and nudging at the towel before sitting on the bed pulling Jared toward him. Jared placed his hands on Jensen’s shoulders, smoothing over them, then tracing his palms down Jensen’s arms in unison until he was resting his hands over Jensen‘s hands. He lifted Jensen's fingers from his hips and, in silent request, placed them on the hem of his shirt. Jensen nodded agreement and lifted his shirt over his head, tugging too hard. A button popped and flew through the air but they didn’t notice. Once his chest was bare, showing acres of creamy, freckled skin, Jensen’s hands pulled at Jared’s towel and let it drop. He was at eye level with Jared’s cock and it was full, erect and magnificent. He looked up at Jared with wonder. Green eyes, blown with lust, met equally glazed hazel eyes.

 

***

 

Jared reached out his hands to touch the firm, creamy skin, tracing freckles on Jensen’s shoulders. The flesh was muscled and toned and he could understand the man’s strength now. He hitched his breath as Jensen’s warm, wet tongue began a slow, swirling action from the base of his cock to the tip, dipping into the slit. He steadied himself with one hand on the freckled shoulder, the other tangling in the soft warmth of the man’s short hair.

 

He felt a huff of warm breath over his shaft and Jensen spoke quietly, “I know I told you not to speak but if you don’t want me to do this, you can tell me to stop.” Jared just blinked blissfully at the beautiful face upturned to him. He had no intention of stopping Jensen. He gave in to feeling as Jensen’s mouth slipped hot and wet over his cock, taking him in, sucking with hollowed cheeks, enclosing his length in velvet, warm cocoon. Fingers dug into his hips tighter, pulling him in further, encouraging rocking motion in time with sliding lips over and over, till there was nothing but this man and this act in his thoughts. Long eyelashes framed remarkable lusty, emerald eyes as they glanced at him from beneath dirty-gold hair. The sensation was exhilarating and sensuous, more, much more than he had felt in so very long and too much all at once. Jared panicked and pushed at Jensen in warning. Jensen startled from his rhythm, sensed the panic, and understanding what the problem was, he slid his mouth off and finished with a firm jack of his hand around the tip of Jared’s cock. Warm come splashed over Jensen’s neck and chest and Jared felt himself pulled onto Jensen’s lap for a long, languid kiss.

 

“S’okay, my fault baby, I should have remembered. No harm done.” Jensen reassured, “You good?”

 

Denim chafed his legs and Jared realized that Jensen was still buttoned up in his jeans, his cock straining hard against the fabric. He bit his lip and looked guiltily at him, “I’m so sorry.” He felt a sharp slap against his thigh, it barely connected, but the sound cracked through the quiet room and the intention was clear enough.

 

“I said not to say anything. This is how I wanted it. No apologies for that. Not ever.” There was a hand now smoothing the reddened flesh. “I want to make love to you next, Jared.” He was pushed off the strong thighs and manipulated onto cool silken sheets. Jensen straddled him, leaning in to kiss his neck and murmur in his ear. “There’s water if you need a drink and lube on the nightstand to prep. I’m going to take a shower, but I promise I’ll be quick. Stay. You look so beautiful there, all fucked out and ready for me.”

 

***

 

The anticipation was delicious and they made love when he returned. Jensen pressed kisses to every part of Jared’s body and Jared’s huge, warm, hands softly caressed every inch of Jensen's body. Jared paused over the raised scar by Jensen's spine and the jagged marks around his knee, returning with his lips to kiss the livid marks.

 

Jensen rolled Jared on his back, “Want to see you, want to do it this way,” he murmured as he pressed his thighs up and snicked the cap on the lube, coating his fingers. He opened Jared slowly adding a finger at a time, quieting him when he moaned impatiently. Finally ready, he crawled up the golden body, snapped a condom on and pressed the tip of his cock to Jared’s hole. Jared pushed up to meet it groaning, “Don’t need gentle.”

 

Jared’s body acquiesced to the intrusion and Jensen stopped for a moment to let him adjust, then they were moving together, Jensen thrusting and dragging back slowly over his sensitive gland. Jared’s cock revived in its interest, swelling in size, hard and weeping pre- come. The sensation was incredible and it was never going to last long enough. “Jerk off Jay, want you to come with me,” Jensen ground out and Jared could sense his lover was off balance, taking weight on his arms and one leg.

 

“Not like this. You’re hurting.”

 

Jensen didn’t scold him this time, he groaned in relief as he felt Jared shift to support his weak leg, hand steady on his hip. They continued like that ragged and desperate, mouths crashing against each other, sucking , nipping and battling with their tongues until Jensen cried out thrusting deeper and hard as he came, vision whiting out.

 

Jared felt the warm spurt of his own come on his stomach, driven to orgasm by the incredible man now collapsing to rest on his chest. He felt the tears as they left his eyes and he couldn‘t stop them. He never thought he’d feel this way again.

 

Jensen returned to consciousness, rolled his weight off Jared and raised his head to look at the beautiful man in his bed. There were tears pooling in bright cat-like eyes and tracking down flushed cheeks. “Oh God. Baby. I hurt you. What did I do? I’m sorry. What can I do?” he was panicking.

 

“Nothing. Jen. M’happy.”

 

Jensen thought he might cry too but he was weary. He grabbed a soft cloth he had placed by the bed and wiped them both. He sighed, and lay down behind Jared. Reaching one hand around his waist, the other gently rubbed the tears from Jared's face, “Sshhh”.

 

Jared’s hand joined with the one that rested around his waist, their fingers entwined and they slipped into a contented sleep together.

 

***

At 2 a.m. Jensen woke to the faint beep and vibration of his phone. He disentangled himself from Jared sleeping peacefully beside him, put PJ trousers and a tee-shirt on and grabbed a spare cane from a cupboard before pressing the door entry button and slipping out of his apartment and down to the lobby.

 

Misha stood in the lobby, rain dripping from his hair down the back of his collar. Harley and Sadie strained at their leashes eager to jump up at Jensen. “I thought you’d need this too,” he said as he passed a bag of dog food to Jensen. There was another bag, which he gave it to Jensen with a scowl. “Jeans, tee and hoodie. I was not going through his underwear. If you’re wrong about him being okay with this I swear I will kill you. As it is, you owe me big-time.”

 

“Misha you know we love you and you love us too.”

 

“Right. Well, my shift is done, I have to get some sleep. Something else you’re going to need ...” Misha slipped cold steel into the bag of clothes. Jensen looked horrified. You’ll need something when he freaks out. Trust me.”

 

“Are you serious?”

 

“I’ve been there Jen. Are you allowed pets in this building by the way?”

 

Jensen shrugged and took the leashes from Misha, “Gosh, I’m not sure I remember reading the clauses all that well.”

 

Jensen settled Harley and Sadie down in his living room and climbed back into bed with Jared. The big man fidgeted and threw an arm over Jensen spooning him close. Jensen snuggled into his warmth and went back to sleep with a sigh.


	29. Chapter 29

Jensen snapped awake with the sound of movement next to him. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand, 4 a.m. Jared was pulling the black wife beater over his head. His breath was fast and erratic, his eyes wild.

 

“Jay? What’ya doing?” Jensen propped himself on one elbow and squinted to focus on the tall man.

 

“Have to go. My babies,” Jared pulled denims over his toes.

 

“They can wait. You fed and walked them last night, right?”

 

“Yes, but...,” He was interrupted as Jensen slid across the bed and grabbed him around the waist, pulling him into a heap onto the bed.

 

“You don’t need to go. Why are you running away?”

 

“I don’t do this. I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I’ve just got to go.” Jared struggled to release himself from Jensen’s arms and his breath came in gulps as he hyperventilated. He felt the cold steel before he heard it snap and the shock of finding himself cuffed to Jensen’s headboard stopped him momentarily. “What the hell, Jen?”

 

Jensen straddled him, pressing down on his flailing limbs. “Ssshh, stop freaking out, I’ll uncuff you as soon as you’re calm. You need to listen to me.” His voice was low and calming. “Stay still and breathe with me, can you do that?”

 

Jared shook his head in protest, gasping for breath, desperate to catch air.

 

“Not gonna let you go till you do.” He leaned in and kissed Jared’s forehead. “You promised to try with me Baby.” He loosened his grip on the uncuffed wrist and Jared didn’t move it. “Good boy. Trust me. You‘re safe.” He placed his hands over the younger man’s racing heart and massaged slowly, “Sshh. Calm down. Now breathe, Baby.”

 

Jared struggled to come down, his eyes settled into a locked gaze with Jensen and then closed as he zoned out. He remembered.

_“Sshh. Calm down. Now breathe, Baby Boy.”_

 

 

**2001**

_The back seat is empty. He sits anxiously, fighting the urge to flee. The man in the peaked cap leans across and slams the door shut. “Buckle up, we’ll get you ready before Sir comes home. There‘s drinks there. Feel free to have one, but no more than one. Drunk is never attractive. ”_

_He doesn’t take one. For all he knows they’re drugged._

_“Where are we going? What do you want me to do?”_

_“Somewhere more comfortable. Sir will want to relax with you.”_

_“I don’t do pain and that shit, and no more than two, the rate is more for two,” he says stubbornly._

_The man in the cap studies him in the mirror, he’s old, maybe in his sixties, there are laughter lines ingrained in his face. He holds himself proud and distinguished. “You misunderstand. It’s just Sir. He won’t hurt you. He’s a busy man who needs to relax and you’re going to help him do that. This way saves time. I know his tastes and he doesn’t have to see you with evidence of the gutter all over you.”_

_“You’re his chauffeur?” asks JT cautiously._

_“Chauffeur, valet, butler, whatever, bit of everything including friend. Call me Smith,” he says and smiles reassuringly into the mirror._

_Imposing gates slide open and they pass through. He looks back to see them closing. He bites his lip and buries his doubts. The driveway is long and winds through gardens. The car continues past the main entrance of the immense building, coming to a stop, partially hidden by sturdy trees, at a side door on the far wing of the building._

_The door opens. “Hop out then,” the chauffeur says cheerfully and guides him through the door and up echoing steps. “Can’t have the household asking questions,” he says, as if reading the boy’s thoughts._

_They reach a door in the silent building and the chauffeur pushes a key into the lock and opens it. The room is elegant and sumptuous. The bed sits, huge and round on a raised platform in the middle, with a comforter of silk and scatter of velvet cushions. The furniture is of polished, robust wood. Light falls through voile curtains and there are scented flowers on decorative stands._

_Smith guides him gently by his elbow. “The bathroom is through here. You have time to avail yourself of a bath. There are oils to use. I’ll leave some clothes for you and something to eat. Sir should be home in a while but he will want to rest first. I trust you will not damage anything.” He puts the plug into the bath, turns faucets on and bows out of the bathroom leaving JT alone._

_The bath is stupendous, JT hasn’t seen anything like it and he’s still just a kid really. He plays with the golden faucets with their pre-set temperature dial, he puts in too many bubbles and blows them across room. Most of all he sinks into the hot depths of this circular marble tub, which fits all of him, and lets the street dirt soak off. He snaps-to after a while, remembering he’s working. He makes use of everything, the shampoo, the razor, the manicure kit, the kitten-soft towels and the hairdryer. The man that looks back from the mirror is almost unrecognizable._

_He wanders back into the bedroom and finds soft black jersey boxers, still in their packaging and a short, black cotton housecoat. Nothing sordid or cheap, he notes. He puts them on and sits on the bed, bouncing a little. He eats dainty triangular ham sandwiches which are provided on a fine china plate and opens the sealed carton of juice to gulp down several mouthfuls of the sweet liquid. When the food is filling his stomach in a pleasant way he stops to consider the contents of the room and gets back up. Curious about the view he pulls the voile curtains back. The windows are barred. He falls back on the balls of his feet and his breath catches. His feet drag, as if in syrup, but he makes it to the door and tugs on the handle. It doesn’t move. He tries twisting the handle in all directions. The door won’t open, it’s locked._

_JT shouts and hammers on the sturdy wooden door, but nobody comes. Eventually he gives up and curls in a ball on the bed, sniffing back tears. There’s nothing he can do. He hasn’t had a place to sleep in weeks that isn’t a doorway or bench. The bed is warm and soft and he closes his eyes and drifts off. The sound of the lock turning wakes him and he moves to the edge of the bed. The man is powerfully built and toned, well kept but silver haired and close to retirement age. He is looking at JT, eyes lusty and approving. He’s got the key in his hand and is moving to place it back in the lock._

_JT makes a dash for the door, feet scrabbling for the floor, but he forgets the dais. He falls with a sickening crunch and his ankle bends unnaturally, shooting spikes of pain through him. Then he’s screaming and flailing, fighting with the silver haired man, scrambling on his knees for the door and he's struggling for air but he can’t breathe. Hands pin him down and he blacks out._

_He can hear before he’s able to open his eyes, “Sshh. Calm down. Now breathe Baby Boy.” The voice is soft, smooth and yet commanding._

_Then to someone else, “Is he on drugs? Christ! He’s stunning. Are you sure he’s over eighteen?”_

_“He said he was nineteen. He seemed fine, normal. I left him here getting a bath, locked the door for him while I put the car away.”_

_“You locked him in all this time Smith?”_

_“There's been workmen, I didn't want anyone wandering in by accident.”_

_JT tests his eyes experimentally and his eyelashes flutter._

_“I think he’s coming to.”_

_“Sshh Baby Boy. Need you to stay calm and listen. You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you. Didn’t mean to scare you. The door’s open. You can leave any time you want but right now you’re hurt and mustn’t move. There’s a doctor on the way.”_

_He opens his eyes to see blue eyes, framed with crow's feet, staring down at him, his own terror reflected back in them. The man is cradling his head on his lap, carding his hands through his hair. “Need to go to the hospital.” JT mutters weakly._

_The blue eyes widen in more terror. “I can’t do that, I just can’t. We’ll get someone here. Then we’ll take you home, talk about the work you’ll miss, make sure you get paid it all.”_

_“Take me home?” JT asks weakly, then follows up, “but there’s bars on the windows. You locked the door.”_

_There’s a sharp intake of breath and the man leans in close, hugging him tight. “For privacy. It’s the old nursery. It’s just the old nursery.”_

_“Oh.”_

_Smith leans over them, handing a phone to the man._

_“Okay Baby Boy, you need to give me your emergency contact and we’ll get someone here for you.”_

_“S’nobody.”_

_“Whoever watches out for you, you have to tell them.”_

_“S’nobody,” he repeats._

_The man frowns, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Don’t you take any care? What about your parents, your family, friends?”_

_“Jus’ me.” he says through grated teeth, eyes spilling tears of pain._

_“Where do you live?”_

_“Here and there,” JT replies. The man’s face crumples and he holds on to JT, firm and reassuring._

_The ankle is set in a cast in the same room while the silver-haired client sits with him. He’s settled, in the bed, on his own and the nurse gives him painkillers, shows him the bottles and brand names, explains the effects and hands the bottle directly to him. Smith explains that it’s up to him if he takes them or not._

_He asks when he’ll be taken home and his client wipes the hair from his face and looks at him kindly. JT thinks this is the way a father is meant to look at his son. “I can’t put you back on the streets like this Baby Boy. I need you to trust me, at least until you’re better. I‘m going to close the house off, it’s only Smith and I here. I’ll give the staff leave. You shouldn’t be disturbed but you have to understand, I’m not out, I can’t be doing this here with you. Nobody can know. I’m trusting you.”_

_It’s not like it’s an arrangement he can refuse in his state, but the door is left ajar, he’s dressed in comfortable jersey pajamas, he’s not asked for sex and for some inexplicable reason JT feels calm. He feels safe here with this man._

_***_

 

Jared unwound. Jensen was in control and the security of it enveloped him. The emotions that Jensen's actions invoked were familiar and welcome. He could do this.

 

Jensen felt Jared relax, his features smoothed and his limbs relaxed and became heavy. He almost panicked. but for the hazel eyes re-opening, steady and focused, to look up at him. “Where were you?” Jensen asked.

 

“I’m someplace safe,” Jared replied cryptically. He reached to Jensen’s cheek with his uncuffed hand, smoothing it gently. “Thanks,” he whispered.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“No. Really. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

 

“Someone’s keen to see you.” Jensen lifted himself away from the architect and left the room. Moments later there was explosion of fur and wet tongues as Harley and Sadie flung themselves onto the rumpled bed to snuffle at their master with enthusiastic tail wagging and malodorous breath. The handcuffs slid off as Jensen released them.

 

“You did this? How? Why?”

 

“A little bird warned me that you find waking with someone difficult. S’okay Jay, I get it. Same little bird has a key to your apartment.”

 

Jared reddened, “You’ve been discussing my sex life. That's, uh, awkward.”

 

“He cares and I hate to break it to you Jay but there’s barely a soul who doesn’t discuss your sex life. It‘s not like I even asked. If it makes you feel better, no we didn’t go into any details. I asked if he could bring the dogs over. He thought I should let you go home. I won.” Jensen pushed Harley away as a wet tongue lapped at his cheek. “Uck, are they always like this?”

 

“Always,” Jared yawned as he spoke. “I’m glad you won.”

 

Harley and Sadie settled heavily over both men. Jensen kissed the back of Jared’s neck and draped his arm around him. “You wanna go back to sleep?”

 

“Mm.”

 

Harley started to snore and it wasn’t long before the heap of dogs and men were sleeping.

 

***

Jensen woke to daylight, the smell of fresh coffee and a heavy object leaping on his stomach. Sadie looked at him playfully, sock in mouth.

 

“Sadie! Give!” Sadie crouched and dropped the sock as Jared entered the room carrying a steaming mug. “I’m guessing you’re grumpy without coffee,” he said, sitting by Jensen’s side.

 

“You’re still here.”

 

“I’m still here. Thank-you,” He leaned over Jensen and gave him a chaste kiss on his lips, “and you’re going to have to stop making those weird cow eyes at me because I have appointments I can’t miss and dogs to take out. I promise I’m not running away, that is if you want to y’know, do what you said last night,” he looked shyly at Jensen.

 

“Yes, God yes, I want to date you Jared,” he laughed. “Listen to me, I sound like some college girl.”

 

“No, it’s okay I like the idea. I’ve never done that, dated I mean, not in the real sense. I‘m not sure why you‘d want to, with me, but I‘d like it.”

 

Jensen grinned wolfishly at Jared “Have you looked at you lately? Have you any idea how sexy that Professional-meets-good-Samaritan thing you’ve got going on is? I want to get to know you better.” He sipped from his mug, staring into the black liquid and didn’t see Jared’s brows furrow at the comment. “Add to the list you make amazing coffee.”

 

“I tried not to mess up your kitchen but it’s very...” he struggled to find the right words, “Very white. In fact everywhere is white, except your furniture, which doesn’t seem to match at all.”

 

“I may not have bothered talking to the interior designer. It didn’t seem important, but yeah, it’s pretty much horrible. Thank you for your tact.”

 

Jared glanced at the clock. “I have to go. I hope you don’t mind, I borrowed some socks from your drawer. I’m not going to ask how my clean clothes got here or where the clothes I was wearing have gone. We’ll save it for later.”

 

Jensen groaned and pulled the brunette on top of him, “You didn’t borrow any boxers, which means that under here,” and he squeezed Jared’s ass through his jeans, “you’re going commando. How can you leave me like that?”

 

“Because I have a scary-ass Project Manager waiting for me,” He moved in for another kiss, lips parted and Jensen met him, slanting against them, tongue licking lazily into his mouth. Jared’s mouth was minty fresh and his lips warm and he pulled away too soon with a slight smack of the lips and a question.  “Can I see you later? I‘ll be calling by the Precinct this afternoon.”

 

Jensen nodded vigorously. “Fuck, yes.”


	30. Chapter 30

Caitlin was sitting in the Glenview lobby. Her hands fiddled with the clasp of her bag. Doc Carver stopped by and rested his hand on her shoulder. “JD will be along soon. The weather’s a bit breezy but it’s dry. Why don’t you wait outside, by the flowerbeds. They’re real colorful right now.”

 

Her eyes flicked nervously to the main door but he was impressed to see her square her shoulders and stand up. “Should I?” She asked.

 

“You’ll be going home next week Caitie and you’ve got that Christmas shopping trip planned with Jay, you may as well get used to it, there’s no point in putting these things off.”

 

She signed herself out and breathed deeply as she walked freely into fresh morning air. She was sat on a bench, mentally naming the myriad of flowers when the smell of cigarettes wafted into the air she was breathing and a nondescript, middle aged man sat next to her, “Hey there Emma.”

 

She looked around to see who he was talking to but his eyes were fixed on her, intense and unnerving, “Do I know you?”

 

“Oh, now Emma, that’s just unkind.” He placed nicotine stained fingers over her hand and blew smoke in her eyes. Somewhere at the back of her mind someone was screaming at her, “Remember! You have to remember.” Unconsciously her right hand traced a pattern on her left shoulder and down her arm but nothing made sense.

 

JD reported to reception at Glenview but Caitlin had already signed out. She wasn’t in the lobby and there was no sign of her in the gardens or on the sidewalk. Thirty minutes after JD and the staff started to search for her and just before Doc Carver picked up the phone to dial Jared she breezed back into reception with a wide smile. “Ready to go?” she said and then looked at their concerned faces and added, “I went to get a paper. I’m sorry, did I lose track of time?”

 

***

 

Jensen had just settled at his desk when his mobile rang.

 

“So who am I putting down as your plus one this weekend Bro?”

 

The silence was deafening.

 

“Jen, tell me you haven’t forgotten my party.”

 

“No. Of course not,” he laughed, guilt transparent in his tone.

 

“So are you going to give me a name? How are you getting here? What time? Details Jen.”

 

“Mac, I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

 

“Because you forgot,” she replied exasperated.

 

“I’ll be there. I promise.”

 

“I’m going to put you next to Old Aunty Ann if you don’t bring anyone. Bring someone Jen, I’ll leave the place blank because I’m an awesome sister. I won’t even tell Mama you forgot.”

 

“Thanks Sis. You are awesome and that fiancé of yours better be good to you.”

 

"By the way, remember you asked me about that book title, 'House of Broken Souls.' I did find a story that matched. It’s in one of those generic horror compilation books for kids. Usual tale of a haunted asylum where kids get locked in and get bumped off one by one. The ghost of a madman makes them kill each other. I admit, I read it, it was kind of fun. It reminded me of my childhood, reading horror books under my covers then being too scared to go to the bathroom and having to cross my legs all night."

 

"So that was why you spent so long in the bathroom every morning," he laughed.

 

“Bring presents Jen, and plus one,” she said warningly before hanging up.

 

He planted his forehead on the desk and groaned. He didn’t dwell on it because his fax machine came to life, churning out pages from Baltimore PD and there was the audible beep of multiple emails arriving.

 

He tore the pages from the fax machine and his stomach clenched. It was a missing person report for a 25 year old Baltimore scaffolder. His disappearance, from a building site one lunchtime, was dated four days before Tom had been taken. In all ways the disappearance had been unremarkable and it had been weeks before he was formally declared missing. Young men willingly walk away from their lives on a regular basis. Most cases are not suspicious. There had been no positive leads and routine interviews indicated that Jake Abel had been infatuated with a married woman at the time. The woman hadn’t been available for comment and after a time search resources had decreased to nil.

 

The thing that suddenly made Jake’s disappearance remarkable was the woman he had a crush on. Jake Abel had reportedly been flirting with the woman who brought sandwiches to his building site. According to his workmates, James Painter had looked on angrily, several days running, as Jake winked at his wife, Emma and joked. Painter’s Mobile Snacks had continued to call at the site for several days after Jake went missing but after that they had ceased and another supplier had taken the slot. In fact Painter’s had ceased trading altogether. Their warehouse unit was abandoned with food rotting, their van hadn’t been seen and its insurance remained unrenewed.

 

Jensen concentrated on the practical details of the information, filing and cross referencing every detail but his eyes kept wandering back to the young face, a man in his prime, someone who should have had a future. His gut instinct and everything on the pages before him told them they weren’t going to find Jake alive.

 

_“Do you think she can do it Tom? Three cards for this one, what’s the odds? She refuses and it‘s your turn pretty boy. Watcha think? Think you can do it? Have you ever killed? Ever known the thrill?”_

 

He mulled it over. The reference was always ‘she’. He shuddered and tried to forget the insane cackle, the warped joy on Laing’s face. _“Three cards. Wasn’t betting on that.”_

 

He snapped out of his thoughts as Misha came into the room. He was whistling.

 

“Don’t suppose I can have my cuffs back now?”

 

“Crap! Sorry. They’re still at home.”

 

“Ah well, I’ve got more, but they are my favorites. Is Jared still in them?”

 

“No!” he couldn’t contain a gleeful smirk.

 

“He stayed! You sly dog. Congratulations. This isn‘t awkward for you is it?”

 

Jensen swatted at him. “How’s it going here?”

 

“Oh you know, card theft and muggings. Nothing as exciting as you’ve got. Reminds me, I got that info from Scotland Yard. I’ll pass it through. We got a class photo back from Bryony Lodge School. I don’t want to jump the gun and get Jared excited over nothing but our Riordan/Matthews girl is a ringer for a young Caitlin. Have you got that face recognition stuff? The photo is 15 years old but I think it’s worth doing.

 

“It’ll give us an indication, but it’s never going to be accurate, there was so much damage to her face. You’re really excited about this aren’t you?”

 

“I’ve got a hunch Jen, which is allowed now I’m a real life movie cop.”

 

“Should we be passing all this through to witness protection?”

 

“According to The Yard they lost interest in her years ago. Old news. She went to University in England to study Occupational Hygiene then dropped off the radar. It was a knee-jerk reaction by witness protection when her name popped up and it’s all settled down again. Our badass FBI friends haven’t raised an eyebrow over my research. Something about her being over eighteen now. It’s disappointing. What even is Occupational Hygiene?”

 

“ _The Yard_ , seriously Misha you’re not getting your own mini series yet.”

 

He Googled ‘occupational hygiene’ as he spoke and turned the screen to face him ‘ _discipline of anticipating, recognizing, evaluating and controlling health hazards in the working environment with the objective of protecting worker health and well-being and safeguarding the community at large_.’

 

“In short, Health and Safety. Like that helps.”

 

“Talking of help. I need to buy an engagement present for my sister. It’s not like she needs anything. What the hell do I get?”

 

“Something she doesn’t need. Something fun. I have this contact who makes this awesome furn…”

 

“Misha ! NO!"

 

“Just saying.”

 

“I need a plus-one or she’s going to torment me for the rest of my life.”

 

“And that’s a problem how?”

 

“I haven’t got a plus one.”

 

“Then what’s Jared? I thought you two got it together.”

 

“Oh c’mon, Jared’s not gonna to want to go with me. It’s an overnighter.”

 

There was a rap on the door and Jared stood, arms crossed, looking at him. “What don’t I want to do?”

 

“Jay, do you lurk by my door permanently?”

 

“Pretty much,” grinned the tall man. “Seriously, what is this overnighter?” he sidled up beside Jensen ruffling his hair playfully.

 

Misha put his finger on his tongue and made a sick face before exiting, “I’m out of here guys. Make sure you lock the door.”

 

“My sister’s engagement party.”

 

Jared frowned and looked disappointed, “Oh.”

 

“What Jay?”

 

“It’s just you didn’t say anything and I thought we might do something together this weekend. It’s okay though, I mean that’s huge. It’s fantastic. I can totally understand why you don’t want me there. Family can be odd about the whole other guy thing.”

 

“Jay, my family organized and came to my wedding, you know, the one with the other guy. My being gay isn’t an issue.”

 

“Do you want me to come? I can do parties. I scrub up well. Where is it?” his enthusiasm was endearing.

 

“Why? Would you do that for me? I mean that’s pretty heavy for a first date. I don’t want to scare you.”

 

Jared moved in and placed his hands on Jensen’s waist, pulling him into his chest. He rubbed his lips lightly over Jensen’s. “Do you know what really scares me? Losing you. Is that too heavy for a first date? I know I’m messed up but I do want to try. You found Megan for me and she’s my only family. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that. I’m a grown man and a professional and I need my ass kicking if I can’t cope with one night away from home with you. Caitlin comes home next week and time away will be difficult after that,” he only paused a beat for breath, “Oh. Unless you don't want your family to meet me. I'm sorry, I shouldn’t push it, I get it. I'm not good boyfriend material.”

 

"Woah. Stop, stop right there. Of course I would love for you to meet my family. You are perfect boyfriend material and they will want to adopt you. I know it. If it helps I can organize separate rooms or twin beds.”

 

“Or you can just bring the handcuffs.” Jared waggled his eyebrows at Jensen and Jensen swallowed, “Yeah, I can do that. Now stop talking and kiss me.”

 

The kiss was tender and passionate and Jensen ran one hand over the curve of Jared’s ass and up his back while the other held him tight at the base of his neck pulling him in. Jared held on to Jensen’s waist with a grip that spoke of never wanting to let go. They did break apart after a time, lips wet and shiny. Jensen trailed a thumb over Jared’s lips then put it to his own mouth and sucked the tip suggestively.

 

“Jeez Jen, you can’t do that to me here.”

 

The phone rang and Jensen shook his head. He took his thumb out of his mouth with a pop and rolled his eyes. “Never stops. I have to take this. By the way, you‘re cooking dinner tonight. You don‘t honestly expect me to use that white kitchen do you?”

 

“Eight o’clock and you’re allowed to dress inappropriately.” The architect walked out of his office with a bounce in his step.


	31. Chapter 31

Caitlin was sitting in the Glenview lobby. Her hands fiddled with the clasp of her bag. Doc Carver stopped by and rested his hand on her shoulder. “JD will be along soon. The weather’s a bit breezy but it’s dry. Why don’t you wait outside, by the flowerbeds. They’re real colorful right now.”

 

Her eyes flicked nervously to the main door but he was impressed to see her square her shoulders and stand up. “Should I?” She asked.

 

“You’ll be going home next week Caitie and you’ve got that Christmas shopping trip planned with Jay, you may as well get used to it, there’s no point in putting these things off.”

 

She signed herself out and breathed deeply as she walked freely into fresh morning air. She was sat on a bench, mentally naming the myriad of flowers when the smell of cigarettes wafted into the air she was breathing and a nondescript, middle aged man sat next to her, “Hey there Emma.”

 

She looked around to see who he was talking to but his eyes were fixed on her, intense and unnerving, “Do I know you?”

 

“Oh, now Emma, that’s just unkind.” He placed nicotine stained fingers over her hand and blew smoke in her eyes. Somewhere at the back of her mind someone was screaming at her, “Remember! You have to remember.” Unconsciously her right hand traced a pattern on her left shoulder and down her arm but nothing made sense.

 

JD reported to reception at Glenview but Caitlin had already signed out. She wasn’t in the lobby and there was no sign of her in the gardens or on the sidewalk. Thirty minutes after JD and the staff started to search for her and just before Doc Carver picked up the phone to dial Jared she breezed back into reception with a wide smile. “Ready to go?” she said and then looked at their concerned faces and added, “I went to get a paper. I’m sorry, did I lose track of time?”

 

***

 

Jensen had just settled at his desk when his mobile rang.

 

“So who am I putting down as your plus one this weekend Bro?”

 

The silence was deafening.

 

“Jen, tell me you haven’t forgotten my party.”

 

“No. Of course not,” he laughed, guilt transparent in his tone.

 

“So are you going to give me a name? How are you getting here? What time? Details Jen.”

 

“Mac, I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

 

“Because you forgot,” she replied exasperated.

 

“I’ll be there. I promise.”

 

“I’m going to put you next to Old Aunty Ann if you don’t bring anyone. Bring someone Jen, I’ll leave the place blank because I’m an awesome sister. I won’t even tell Mama you forgot.”

 

“Thanks Sis. You are awesome and that fiancé of yours better be good to you.”

 

"By the way, remember you asked me about that book title, 'House of Broken Souls.' I did find a story that matched. It’s in one of those generic horror compilation books for kids. Usual tale of a haunted asylum where kids get locked in and get bumped off one by one. The ghost of a madman makes them kill each other. I admit, I read it, it was kind of fun. It reminded me of my childhood, reading horror books under my covers then being too scared to go to the bathroom and having to cross my legs all night."

 

"So that was why you spent so long in the bathroom every morning," he laughed.

 

“Bring presents Jen, and plus one,” she said warningly before hanging up.

 

He planted his forehead on the desk and groaned. He didn’t dwell on it because his fax machine came to life, churning out pages from Baltimore PD and there was the audible beep of multiple emails arriving.

 

He tore the pages from the fax machine and his stomach clenched. It was a missing person report for a 25 year old Baltimore scaffolder. His disappearance, from a building site one lunchtime, was dated four days before Tom had been taken. In all ways the disappearance had been unremarkable and it had been weeks before he was formally declared missing. Young men willingly walk away from their lives on a regular basis. Most cases are not suspicious. There had been no positive leads and routine interviews indicated that Jake Abel had been infatuated with a married woman at the time. The woman hadn’t been available for comment and after a time search resources had decreased to nil.

 

The thing that suddenly made Jake’s disappearance remarkable was the woman he had a crush on. Jake Abel had reportedly been flirting with the woman who brought sandwiches to his building site. According to his workmates, James Painter had looked on angrily, several days running, as Jake winked at his wife, Emma and joked with her. Painter’s Mobile Snacks had continued to call at the site for several days after Jake went missing but after that they had ceased and another supplier had taken the slot. In fact Painter’s had ceased trading altogether. Their warehouse unit was abandoned with food rotting, their van hadn’t been seen and its insurance remained unrenewed.

 

Jensen concentrated on the practical details of the information, filing and cross referencing every detail but his eyes kept wandering back to the young face, a man in his prime, someone who should have had a future. His gut instinct and everything on the pages before him told them they weren’t going to find Jake alive.

 

_“Do you think she can do it Tom? Three cards for this one, what’s the odds? She refuses and it‘s your turn pretty boy. Watcha think? Think you can do it? Have you ever killed? Ever known the thrill?”_

 

He mulled it over. The reference was always ‘she’. He shuddered and tried to forget the insane cackle, the warped joy on Laing’s face. _“Three cards. Wasn’t betting on that.”_

 

He snapped out of his thoughts as Misha came into the room. He was whistling.

 

“Don’t suppose I can have my cuffs back now?”

 

“Crap! Sorry. They’re still at home.”

 

“Ah well, I’ve got more, but they are my favorites. Is Jared still in them?”

 

“No!” he couldn’t contain a gleeful smirk.

 

“He stayed! You sly dog. Congratulations. This isn‘t awkward for you is it?”

 

Jensen swatted at him. “How’s it going here?”

 

“Oh you know, card theft and muggings. Nothing as exciting as you’ve got. Reminds me, I got that info from Scotland Yard. I’ll pass it through. We got a class photo back from Bryony Lodge School. I don’t want to jump the gun and get Jared excited over nothing but our Riordan/Matthews girl is a ringer for a young Caitlin. Have you got that face recognition stuff? The photo is 15 years old but I think it’s worth doing.

 

“It’ll give us an indication, but it’s never going to be accurate, there was too much damage to her face. You’re really excited about this aren’t you?”

 

“I’ve got a hunch Jen, which is allowed now I’m a real life movie cop.”

 

“Should we be passing all this through to witness protection?”

 

“According to The Yard they lost interest in her years ago. Old news. She went to University in England to study Occupational Hygiene then dropped off the radar. It was a knee-jerk reaction by witness protection when her name popped up and it’s all settled down again. Our badass FBI friends haven’t raised an eyebrow over my research. Something about her being over eighteen now. It’s disappointing. What even is Occupational Hygiene?”

 

“ _The Yard_ , seriously Misha you’re not getting your own mini series yet.”

 

He Googled ‘occupational hygiene’ as he spoke and turned the screen to face him ‘discipline of anticipating, recognizing, evaluating and controlling health hazards in the working environment with the objective of protecting worker health and well-being and safeguarding the community at large.’

 

“In short, Health and Safety. Like that helps.”

 

“Talking of help. I need to buy an engagement present for my sister. It’s not like she needs anything. What the hell do I get?”

 

“Something she doesn’t need. Something fun. I have this contact who makes this awesome furn…”

 

“Misha ! NO!"

 

“Just saying.”

 

“I need a plus-one or she’s going to torment me for the rest of my life.”

 

“And that’s a problem how?”

 

“I haven’t got a plus one.”

 

“Then what’s Jared? I thought you two got it together.”

 

“Oh c’mon, Jared’s not gonna to want to go with me. It’s an overnighter.”

 

There was a rap on the door and Jared stood, arms crossed, looking at him. “What don’t I want to do?”

 

“Jay, do you lurk by my door permanently?”

 

“Pretty much,” grinned the tall man. “Seriously, what is this overnighter?” he sidled up beside Jensen ruffling his hair playfully.

 

Misha put his finger on his tongue and made a sick face before exiting, “I’m out of here guys. Make sure you lock the door.”

 

“My sister’s engagement party.”

 

Jared frowned and looked disappointed, “Oh.”

 

“What Jay?”

 

“It’s just you didn’t say anything and I thought we might do something together this weekend. It’s okay though, I mean that’s huge. It’s fantastic. I can totally understand why you don’t want me there. Family can be odd about the whole other guy thing.”

 

“Jay, my family organized and came to my wedding, you know, the one with the other guy. My being gay isn’t an issue.”

 

“Do you want me to come? I can do parties. I scrub up well. Where is it?” his enthusiasm was endearing.

 

“Why? Would you do that for me? I mean that’s pretty heavy for a first date. I don’t want to scare you.”

 

Jared moved in and placed his hands on Jensen’s waist, pulling him into his chest. He rubbed his lips lightly over Jensen’s. “Do you know what really scares me? Losing you. Is that too heavy for a first date? I know I’m messed up but I do want to try. You found Megan for me and she’s my only family. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that. I’m a grown man and a professional and I need my ass kicking if I can’t cope with one night away from home with you. Caitlin comes home next week and time away will be difficult after that,” he only paused a beat for breath, “Oh. Unless you don't want your family to meet me. I'm sorry, I shouldn’t push it, I get it. I'm not good boyfriend material.”

 

"Woah. Stop, stop right there. Of course I would love for you to meet my family. You are perfect boyfriend material and they will want to adopt you. I know it. If it helps I can organize separate rooms or twin beds.”

 

“Or you can just bring the handcuffs.” Jared waggled his eyebrows at Jensen and Jensen swallowed, “Yeah, I can do that. Now stop talking and kiss me.”

 

The kiss was tender and passionate and Jensen ran one hand over the curve of Jared’s ass and up his back while the other held him tight at the base of his neck pulling him in. Jared held on to Jensen with a grip that spoke of never wanting to let go. They did break apart after a time, lips wet and shiny. Jensen trailed a thumb over Jared’s lips then put it to his own mouth and sucked the tip suggestively.

 

“Jeez Jen, you can’t do that to me here.”

 

The phone rang and Jensen shook his head. He took his thumb out of his mouth with a pop and rolled his eyes. “Never stops. I have to take this. By the way, you‘re cooking dinner tonight. You don‘t honestly expect me to use that white kitchen do you?”

 

“Eight o’clock and you’re allowed to dress inappropriately.” The architect walked out of Jensen's office with a bounce in his step.


	32. Chapter 32

The smell was amazing. Jensen reached around Jared’s waist to hug him, “Wow. You can cook. What is that?”

 

“That would be a simple risotto with a garden salad. There are some drinks in the cooler if you want to open them for me.”

 

“I’ll just stick to something without alcohol. Have you got juice?”

 

“It’s all alcohol-free.” Jared reddened a little, “I thought it was for the best.”

 

“Thanks.” He set about pouring it into glasses at the table which was set simply with a colorful cloth and a small arrangement of flowers.

 

Jared stirred the rice and grated parmesan cheese. He looked thoughtful. “I heard you were doing good with the no drinking thing. It’s sort of strange that you were at Milligan’s.”

 

“I met a friend there.” He wasn’t exactly lying thought Jensen.

 

Jared served the rice dish beside the salad, dressing it with a sprinkle of parsley, “Boyfriend?”

 

“Sort of, a recent ex.”

 

“So I’m your rebound then?”

 

Jensen took the plates from him and placed them on the table. He ran his hand through Jared’s hair, flicking stray strands over his ears. “No, he was the rebound from you. I just came to my senses.”

 

“So, the thing about us not being exclusive, are you seeing someone else?” Jared looked anxious.

 

“No. Why would I do that?” He took Jared’s hands and placed them in his own, standing chest to chest with him.

 

“I thought, well, why else would you say it?”

 

“I don’t want you to feel trapped. I would understand.”

 

Jared considered it for a moment, then dipped in for a brief kiss, sweet and deep, “I was wondering if we could make us exclusive.”

 

“Yes. Of course. Hell yes, Jay. If that’s what you want, we can.”

 

They ate dinner and talked about music, sport and TV. They laughed and teased each other, never awkward or short in the conversation. They cleared the dishes and cleaned them in unison, falling into the tasks as if they’d always shared them. Jensen looked at Jared as he waved his arms in animated conversation, we fit, he thought.

 

Jared placed dishes in his cupboard and turned to see the quieter man looking absently into middle distance with a faint smile on his lips. We can do this, he thought.

 

“Where are Harley and Sadie?” Jensen called from the corner of living room floor where he was inspecting Jared’s DVD collection.

 

“I bribed Jo to take them. They ruin my respectable chef image,” he laughed. “She’ll be looking after them this weekend too. Where exactly are we going? What do I need to wear?” He took a running leap at the couch and landed comfortably on it.

 

“It’s at a country club near Richardson, Dallas.”

 

“Huh.”

 

“Why huh?”

 

“It was where I lived when I was at UT. I mean I knew you had the accent and all but I didn’t figure the same town, y’know.”

 

“Born and bred,” Jensen was proud. “As for dress-code, Mac wouldn’t let Mama turn it into black-tie, so any of the suits I’ve seen on you would do very nicely,” he raised an eyebrow, “Mind, if you wear that black pinstripe, no-one can blame me if it doesn’t stay on you for very long.”

 

“I might choose to tease you Jen.”

 

“Mmm please. Now concentrate, favorite movie?”

 

“Good Will Hunting. It’s on the far right, but why?”

 

“Because that’s what we’re going to watch.” He picked up the case and opened it, huffing on the DVD and wiping it carefully on the soft fabric of his T shirt, revealing a thin sliver of creamy flesh. He placed it in the player and it slid into the machinery with a quiet whirr.

 

“I thought…”

 

Jensen sat himself down astride Jared’s thighs, facing him and pushed him into the soft cushions, by his shoulders. He bent his lips to kiss the end of his nose and then peppered small kisses over the whole of his face and his jaw line. His green eyes watched Jared’s. “Sshh, we’re taking it slow, remember? I know what you thought, but since we’re dating, I am going to watch what you like and learn more about you. If in the process we happen to make-out on the couch, then that is a risk I’m willing to take.” He slid off Jared’s legs to curl into the corner of the couch. The film title rolled and Jared moved to lay his legs on the couch, his head resting against Jensen’s chest. Jensen rested his arm around him and smiled.

 

They made love on the couch, much later, hands roaming over each others' flesh, lips wet, sweat-slick skin slipping against each other, burning heat between them as Jensen buried himself in Jared, pushing deep into him, over and again. Jared squirmed and shouted and begged and Jensen whispered obscenities of all the things he wanted to do, into the shell of his ear. He nipped at the flesh of his neck, worrying the spot with his tongue to leave faint purple marks. Jay licked the dark nub of his nipples, sucking and tonguing at them, running his fingers across his chest, then reaching to pull and knead at Jensen’s ass cheeks. Jensen tensed as he came shouting Jared’s name. He pulled out slowly and gently and scooted down the firm sweat-slippery flesh. Jared tore a packet and handed him a condom and Jensen rolled it on Jared’s straining cock using just his mouth “Jesus fucking Christ, much more of that and you’ll be too late Jen.” Jensen sucked him into his mouth, licking over the tip and he came into the condom, arching his back upwards. Jensen rested his head on the firm stomach of his lover, panting slightly and licking his lips.

“You’re fucking amazing Jay,” he said.

 

Jared curled his fingers on Jensen’s head, worrying at his sweat-dampened hair. “Earlier, when you didn't question if I could be exclusive in a relationship, thanks for that. I know how it seems with me.”

 

Jensen didn't answer, just nuzzled close and kissed his navel.

 

They dozed awhile, comfortable together but sweat cooled and they woke sticky with each other. “Should get a shower,” Jared muttered. “My shower,” Jared breathed lustily into Jensen’s ear, “My shower has plenty of room for two.”

 

“Mmm, you’ll have to grab me a cloth. Showers without rails are problematic, too slippery for me.”

 

Jared traced a finger up Jensen’s leg and rested his hand gently over the scarred knee, “What did this?”

 

“It got crushed.”

 

“At the same time as this?” he asked, his fingers softly following the scar on his back.

 

“Yeah. Same time. Same person.”

 

“Is it going to get better? Will you always need a cane?”

 

“Does it bother you that you’re dating a cripple?”

 

Jared stopped the movement of his hand and reached to tip Jensen’s chin up so he was looking into his eyes. “Don’t ever call yourself that. As far as I can tell there’s nothing important you can’t do,” his grin was filthy. He resumed stroking his hand up the freckled back, “Will it ever get better so you don’t need the cane?”

 

“There’s surgery that can be performed on my knee but it will never be perfect. There’s still a bullet in my back because it’s lodged awkwardly. There was a risk of complete paralysis in my legs if they tried to move it straight away. It’s gradually moving itself in the right direction so eventually I may get it removed. I planned to get them done together, couldn’t face more surgery than necessary. Hurts like the devil some days.”

 

“What you’re doing, the case you’re working on. Is it related?”

 

“We haven’t caught him yet. It’s ongoing and there’s reasons I can’t talk about it. Things we don’t want leaked.”

 

“It must be hard. Keeping it to yourself.”

 

“There’s Misha and Chad, the rest of the team too. It’s not so bad. I used to tell Tom everything but I should have kept it at work. Shouldn’t have told him.”

 

Jared rubbed his hand reassuringly over Jensen’s back, “What happened to Tom?”

 

“Same person killed him, mostly to punish me.” He was matter of fact, he didn’t find it so hard to tell Jared. Maybe time did dull the pain or perhaps it was just Jared who made it easier. There was silence and Jared continued to stroke his skin tenderly. “I can’t imagine it. You know if you ever want to talk, if you can, I’m here.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Hang on. If the person who did this is still out there, are you in any danger?”

 

“No. I don’t think so. He got what he wanted from me. It’s over for me.”

 

“Good,” Jared nodded. “That’s good, not that he’s still out there, but that you’re safe.”

 

“When we visit home, I might take some time, take some flowers to his grave, if you don’t mind.”

 

“You want company?”

 

“No, just me.”

 

“No, okay, it’s good, fine. I should probably look someone up too. It’s not like I get there often,” he laughed nervously. “Well that was a mood killer, sorry.”

 

Jensen frowned, “Jay, it’s not a mood killer, it’s talking. It’s good. The sex is incredible with you and I love it, but I like being with you, getting to know each other. It’s just as important baby. Now go take a shower before you collect your mutts. Do you want me to stay tonight or go?”

 

Jared rubbed a hand through his hair and scratched at his chin, “Um, I’d prefer to go to sleep on my own. It’s just it’s my bed. It’s complicated. I did enjoy it last night, don’t think I didn’t and it was good this morning, I was fine, honestly. If you want though...”

 

He felt fingers pressing against his lips, “Sshh. Baby sshh. We’re dating, it’s not compulsory, it’s not even usual on a second date. Don’t ever go to bed with me because you find it hard to say no. I’m serious; I worry about your ability to say no. There will be times when I think you want something and I’ll tell you to do it but in the end it’s always your choice. Don’t you ever say yes when you mean no. Please tell me you understand.”

 

Jared nodded slowly, his hazel eyes turned to him, his face scrunched slightly. “Okay, yeah. Will you stay a while, after I shower?”

 

Jensen growled playfully, “Baby I need a goodnight kiss before I go.”


	33. Chapter 33

There was nothing unusual about the flight to Dallas. Well, nothing to be concerned about, at least. Jared learned that Jensen was impatient in line and flirty with air stewards. Jensen learned that Jared was a nervous flier. They both learned that joining the mile high club was difficult when you’re 6’4” and 6’1” and well built. Difficult but _not_ impossible and in such an enclosed space Jensen could never be in any danger of falling. As an aside, after returning from the cramped cubicle, Jared also learned that Jensen had a special smirk, dirtier than any he’d seen before and he really loved this one.

 

***

Mac was a star. Her brother could freely admit it as he bounced on the huge bed in the country club’s exclusive suite. She had booked the suite for him, months in advance, and kept faith that he would be here to use it. “I love this place.”

 

“I love your sister already.”

 

Jensen eyed Jared’s baggage and the suit holder as he placed it in the wardrobe. “Show me. Just a little peek.”

 

“Nuh-uh, you’ll have to wait.”

 

“You’re such a girl, hiding your outfit.” Jensen teased from the bed. There was a whump as Jared launched himself at the bed and they wrestled as he set about investigating whether Jensen was ticklish [the answer being, yes, on his feet, under his arms and at the back of his neck.] They were laughing, breathless and pink-cheeked when they heard a giggle and turned in unison to face the door.

 

“Oh my, Jen! You should probably learn how to lock doors.”

 

They sat up with tousled hair and rumpled clothes and Jared bit the inside of his cheek to stop the laughter bubbling up in him from loudly exploding.

 

“Mac!”

 

Brother and sister met in an embrace in the middle of the room. “Missed you,” she said, mussing Jensen’s hair with elegant fingers.

 

“Me too, Sis. Thanks for making sure I had somewhere to stay.”

 

“You expect me to trust you to organize anything when you’re buried in an investigation? I know you. Mmhm ... I could do with an introduction to your plus one though.”

 

Jared unfurled himself from the bed, ran his fingers through his hair and smoothed his clothes. He crossed the distance, smiled that megawatt white smile and offered his hand to Mac, polite and elegant. “Hey. I’m Jared. Your brother told me you’re wonderful but he never mentioned how beautiful you are.”

 

Mac smiled broadly, her green eyes lit with amusement. She could admit to being smitten on first sight. “Jensen. Whatever store you found this one at, I need to go there. Now!”

 

“You’re taken and if I hear any suggestion of anything other than that, you won’t get a present.”

 

"Ooh presents, okay, I’ll be good but I’m allowed to look, right?”

 

Jensen gathered his hand around Jared and pulled him to his side. “Look only Mac. I’m very possessive.”

 

"Huh, ignore him. I can kick his butt any day," Mac giggled as she grabbed Jared by his hand and pulled him to sit on the large couch. Jensen sat awkwardly on the matching chair and hoped this wouldn‘t be too difficult for his boyfriend. He wondered at the use of that term boyfriend but it fit and he quite liked it.

 

“You are way too good for him. So how did you meet? He never tells me anything,” Mackenzie pouted at her brother.

 

Jared chuckled, a restrained cocktail-party laugh. Inside, he was panicking, he didn’t know whether he could do this. He hadn’t asked about Jensen’s family, he had made assumptions and tried not to dwell on them. The detective was wealthy, it was never overt, just there in the little things, the way he lived, the casual ease with money and possessions.

 

 In front of him now, in this place, _it had to be here of all places_ , in the accent, in Mackenzie’s manner and dress, was the evidence of Texan old-money. This was wealth with social constraints, political sway and power. His nerves were on edge and his stomach was curled into a hard nauseous ball. Jared wasn’t what Mackenzie thought he was, and if she knew about him, she would be appalled. She’d be chasing him out of her safe country club. He carried on smiling. He could do this. It was a part he’d learned to play a long time ago, a façade he’d been taught to present to the moneyed classes.  He would be composed, dignified and polite, a far cry from the down and dirty slut that frequented rundown bars at he wrong side of town. “We were neighbors. It developed from there,” he said, speaking clearly and smiling tightly.

 

Jensen didn’t recognize this Jared. He was held stiff, his laugh strained, the tension in his jaw and eyes visible. He interrupted, “I tried to impress him with the size of my barrel but it didn’t work. I charmed him in the end though.”

 

“You’d better keep him Jen. I want to see more of him.”

 

“Oh no. He is definitely staying fully clothed in your presence Sis.”

 

“The very thought...”

 

“Well as lovely as this is, you have checked that I’ve arrived and nosed around Jared. We have to make ourselves beautiful to meet your young man so I am going to throw you out now. You can go and tell Mama everything.”

 

“As if…”

 

“Scoot.”

 

“Till later,” Jared said.

 

She gave a sarcastic wave as she exited the suite and Jensen locked the door behind her.

 

Jared rounded on Jensen the moment the door was locked. “What was that about Jen? You virtually threw her out.”

 

Jensen folded his arms over his chest. “You tell me Jay? You’ve been uptight with everyone since you’ve been here. Oh you’ve been polite and ever so distinguished but you haven’t been _you_. I brought you here. That is my sister and I wanted _you_ to meet her but she gets a freakin’ Ken-doll. I get that you might be nervous but these are my family and friends and they are good people.”

 

“Well who do you want them to meet Jen? The one who hangs around in suspect bars to take them out back for a blow job?” There was anger and hurt in his voice.

 

“No, because that isn’t you either. Whatever you may have done in the past, it's just that, your past, and it's over with.The real you is suave, sexy and funny. He’s a bit clumsy, he’s a friendly neighbor and a successful businessman. He’s an accomplished runner, a community asset and,” he moved in to Jared’s space and pressed his lips by his ear..., “and he’s mine.” He cupped his jaw, smoothing a thumb over it and pulled him close for a kiss. Jared squeezed his eyes tight, unclenched his fists and relaxed into it. He slicked his tongue over Jensen’s lips, then sucked his bottom lip in between his own. Their lips crashed together, tongues exploring and tangling, lips sliding. Their groins pressed together and Jared moaned and bucked against the straining erection of his lover. Jensen pulled him in and rubbed against him, with little groaning noises.

 

Jensen pulled away first. “The shower here fits two AND it’s got grab-bars and a seat. I vote we check it out.”

 

“Seconded,” moaned the tall man as he pushed Jensen’s tee- shirt up over his head, scraping his knuckles over the firm abs and chest.

 

“Gonna get you so relaxed,” murmured Jensen as he allowed himself to be pulled into the bathroom.

 

The water was warm and the jets refreshing, splashing over them as Jared foamed Jensen’s hair and rinsed it off carefully. Jensen sat, with water beating down on him as Jared repeated the action on his own hair, white foam running in rivulets down his firm shoulders and along the line of his spine. Jensen made a faint mewling nose as the foam disappeared in to the crack at the base of Jared’s spine, reappearing to complete it‘s journey over the muscular thighs and calves.

 

Jared pulled Jensen up maneuvering him against the cool tiles “Hang on.” he muttered as he moved one of his lover’s hands to the sturdy rail beside them. He squirted a generous blob of soap and lathered it between his large hands, slipping it between his fingers. He soaped Jensen’s body slowly trailing his hands over his neck, his chest, his stomach, pressing kisses in their wake, ignoring the strong alkali taste on his lips. His hand feathered lightly down his treasure trail until he reached the swollen member, erect and spilling precome into the falling streams of water. He moved his hand steadily and firmly now, gripping the base and lathering the soap up its length and over the tip. His other hand reached for his own cock and coated it, jacking it firmly, rubbing over the head. His lips whispered sin and his eyes were wide, pupils blown black as he looked at Jensen and moved in to cover his body with his own, cover his lips and press his tongue hard into his mouth. Then he was grasping Jensen’s dick to his own, trapping them together in the warm grip of his huge hand. He stroked up the length, tugging in lazy rhythm, twisting as he reached the weeping heads, all the while tongue-fucking into Jensen’s mouth. His other hand reached around to cup his lover’s balls, rubbing with fingers, thumb dragging over the sensitive perineum between. Jensen was mewling again, breath coming in short needy gasps. He moved into Jared’s touch, matching his rhythm as it got faster, pressing his free hand into the wet brown hair, twisting and pulling on, dragging groans of ecstasy from the younger man. They gave in to sensation of it all, Jensen coming first with a choked off cry, coating Jared’s hand with thick fluid, pushing him over the edge with a delirious moan.

 

Jensen sat back heavily on the bench with a moan and rested his head on Jared’s firm abs for a moment before peppering his thighs, stomach and softened cock with kisses. Jared placed an affectionate kiss to the crown of Jensen’s head. “Mmmm,” vocalized a blissed-out detective and the brunette laughed, “I think we got too relaxed.”

 

They turned the heat of the water down a notch and washed. For a moment the detective gazed at the man sharing his space and thought, “I love you,” but he remained quiet and banished the idea, it must be a crush, they were only just getting to know each other.

 

***

It had to be the black pinstripe suit that Jared wore. Jensen knew it would be. A crisp white Italian cotton shirt with subtle pattern, accentuated the golden flesh at the tall man’s neck, where an elegant burgundy tie was knotted perfectly and held in place with a silver tie-pin. Jensen couldn’t stop staring.

 

“Does my bum look big in this?” Jared joked.

 

“Everything looks perfect in that.” Jensen breathed. “Forget the party! We can have our own.”

 

“Oh no! Have you seen you? I intend to be seen with you tonight.” It was Jared’s turn to ogle his perfectly turned out partner. “You chose a suit to match mine.” he said as his eyes roamed over the tight fitting black pants, the shined shoes and the pressed cotton shirt with faint pink stripes.”

 

“Ahh. Now how could I possibly have done that?” Laughed Jensen and reached to squeeze his partner’s ass. “Now c’mon.”

 

***

Jared took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as Jensen squeezed his hand and pulled him into the grandly named ballroom. There was a musical ensemble playing a classical mix to the side of a small stage and groups of elegantly dressed people mingled, while waiters threaded through the crowd offering canapés and sparkling drinks. Tables were extravagantly decorated with flowers and name cards. A tray passed at eye level carrying bubbly golden champagne in crystal glasses. Jensen tracked its progress with alarm. Jared squeezed Jensen’s hand and reassured him, “It's okay, I'm right here. You can do this,” he whispered.

 

“Jenny. You made it! Oh my! You brought the alpaca. You’re looking good there.” Chad wriggled his way between them and draped his arms around them both.

 

Jared looked puzzled, “What is it with alpacas?”

 

“Ask Misha,” they answered simultaneously.

 

“Jared, I need to borrow your boyfriend for a few minutes. Not something I’d normally do but since he hasn’t been answering his phone...,” he winked at Jared, “Probably because you were having hot boy sex.”

 

“You’re a douche bag,” said Jensen.

 

“You love me,” joked Chad, but his face tensed and became serious, “It’s a development that can’t wait Jen.”

 

Jared was understanding, “You go ahead. I’m going to search out some sparkly apple juice to put in one of those dainty glasses, for you to be seen with.” He acknowledged the Texan detective with a nod and turned on his heel to hunt out the bar. The two lawmen the bent their heads close, speaking quietly. “This better be good, it’s my sister’s night dude.”

 

“It's not good. It's very bad so listen up, Jen. We located the Painters’ van, as in, our main suspect’s van.”

 

“Well that’s interesting news Chad but it could wait.”

 

“It was found two blocks from Madison House Mansions, a month ago. Do the math Jen. I want you to get your security hiked up. You need to be vigilant. I mean paranoid-careful Jensen, and your boyfriend there, we should keep an eye on him too.”

 

“You don’t think...”

 

“I don’t know what to think Jensen, I just know we can’t be too careful.”

 

Jensen’s stomach did flip flops and he knew he wouldn’t be eating the meal that was served that evening. The color left his face and Chad put an arm out to steady him, “Where exactly?”

 

Chad named the street and the block number and his stomach ceased with the flip flops and clenched into tight twisted coils. His breath came in short, shallow bursts. There was a flashback playing in his head. She had worked that street, a petite brunette staring him in the eyes, _“You were on TV,”_ Caitlin had said. He had to be crazy, but he had to know, “Have you fingerprinted it?”

 

“Forensics will be all over it next week. It’s not our team, they have their own priorities. FBI have bumped it up as far as they can.”

 

“Have you completed forensics for the Fay crime-scene?”

 

“Mostly. There were definitely two assailants. The prints have been run and we have James’ for sure. The rest don’t match anyone we’ve got on database. It’s likely one set is Emma’s. We’ve got cops over at her parent’s place, looking for something with prints. Hopefully, they kept some sort of keepsake that will at least have a partial print.”

 

“Do me a favor. Don’t argue with me on this. I want you to run Caitlin Doe’s prints against them, specifically hers, as soon as you can.”

 

“She would have come up as a match Jen. What is this about?”

 

“You look at her file, draw your own conclusions. I may be way off but what if James got carried away and decided to punish Emma for flirting? What if Caitlin is Emma? I just need to be sure. Run her by the profiler for me too?”

 

“Sure thing Jen. Are you certain you’re going to be okay? Shall I find Jay for you? He’s taking forever with that juice.”

 

Chad came back fifteen minutes later, “Jen I can’t find Jared anywhere. Mac hasn’t seen him.”

 

“Very funny Chad. He’s too tall to disappear in this crowd.”

 

“No seriously, he’s nowhere and he hasn’t gone back to your room.”

 

Fear spiked through him, it felt like his heart was going to burst. His hands shook and he couldn’t form his words properly, “Find him. Have to find him Chad.”


	34. Chapter 34

Jared worked his way through the scattered groups of chattering guests. He looked ahead, avoiding eye contact and forced himself to breathe regularly, exhaling slowly. He made himself recall that Richardson has a population of 100,000. In any case he’d changed, grown broader, his hair was longer and he was no longer the nervous, skinny youngster of his University years.

 

He found the bar, a mirrored, circular counter, accessible from all directions. He caught the eye of the bartender who indicated that he’d been seen and would attend to him shortly. He drummed his fingers on the counter and watched him pour shots for the elderly lady and gentleman on the far side of the bar. Their gaze also turned to observing the bartender and then lit on Jared. He felt their stares before he saw their faces. He looked over at them curiously and froze.

 

Beth was older, slimmer, dressed impeccably in her favorite, Chanel. Her hair was whiter than he remembered and her laughter lines deeper. The gentleman was leaning towards her, speaking quietly in her ear. Jared recognized him. He offered the same comforting arm as he had the first time he’d seen him, the concern for Beth evident in every move he made. He’d been there the day Jared left Richardson. The hate had been tangible, rolling off them in the stifling solicitor’s office. Jared had sat on the sticky leather seat, grieving and alone, guilt eating at him, unable to comprehend his position, wanting the world to stop and go into reverse. He had signed their documents with unseeing eyes and left Texas without a backward glance.

 

He noted that Security were well dressed. They approached him warily, hands at the sides of their tuxedo pants. He almost laughed out loud. When had he ever made any trouble with Beth Farra? He always went out of his way to avoid her. Her friend was making his way over, exuding the same hate he’d seen all those years ago, coupled with raw anger. Jared backed up as he found himself surrounded, but the counter was behind him, cutting off his retreat.

 

“This is a private function.”

 

He could feel his heart beating like a frightened rabbit’s, his palms were sweating but he wasn’t the same lost youngster. He was going to retain his dignity. “I was invited,” he said, his voice sounding more confident than he felt.

 

The elderly man was in his face now, grabbing his collar, red with fury.

 

“I think _the father of the bride_ would know who is invited to his daughter’s engagement party and it wouldn’t include a gold digging whore. I have no idea what your game is JT, but you will get out of here and out of this town. You have no right to do this to Beth. There’s no more money to be made from her.”

 

“I never wanted any…” His voiced faded, his collar was being held too tightly and Jared was choking.

 

Security pried the hands from his neck. “You should go with us, sir.”

 

He acquiesced, nodding dumbly at them, and followed their lead. The bottom had fallen out of Jared’s world as soon the man had spat his words at him. “ _Father of the bride,_ ” Jensen’s father, Jensen’s family, _Publishing_. He’d known Jensen’s connections to the business from the beginning, paid no mind to it. He felt tears prick at his eyes and his legs trembled beneath him, but he held his head up and didn’t let it show. It was Mackenzie’s night and he wouldn’t create a fuss. The cab was already waiting and they pushed him toward it. He didn’t ask to collect his things, he had his wallet, there was nothing he needed he couldn’t pay for. It was chilly without a jacket but he didn’t notice that.

 

He got in the backseat of the cab. He wondered what Jensen would think when he found he was gone. He reached into his pocket but his phone wasn’t there. Another thought scared him. Perhaps Jensen had known all along? What if this was revenge, a public humiliation? He started to shake, his breath came too rapidly and after several miles the cab driver had to pull over as the tall man hyperventilated and then blacked out.

 

***

 

Jensen gripped onto Chad‘s arm, his fingers leaving red marks. They had searched the main areas, the restrooms, even the patio and cloakrooms, with no sign of Jared.

 

“Jen, listen, Laing’s not going to try anything here. There has to be a reasonable explanation. Just try to think what it could be. Look your mama’s here. She’ll know something, you’ll see.”

 

Donna broke into a wide smile, “Jensen darling. You’re here!” She pulled him into her slight frame in an embarrassing show of maternal affection. Have you got a drink yet? Mac says you’ve brought a gorgeous young man with you,” she looked about, “Where is he?”

 

“That’s kinda the problem Ma, he went to get some juice for me and now we can‘t find him.” Jensen tried to make light of it for his mother, but he saw her eyes narrow as she looked at him. His mother knew his every facial expression and right now he knew she was seeing fear.

 

“Sweetie, he can’t have gone far. Why the worry?” She looked at Chad, assessing his expression, every bit as clever at interpreting him. She gave her best reassuring smile “Describe him for me.”

 

Chad started, “Sort of yay high.” He stretched his arm up high, “Kind of hard to miss on that score, dark brown hair, puppy eyes, ridiculously well fitted black pinstripe suit. If I were female I would probably say hot.”

 

She pursed her lips and scanned the room herself. “I think I would have noticed,” she said. “What’s his name?”

 

“Jared. Jared Padalecki. Hard to pronounce at first but you get the hang of it.”

 

He didn’t need to be skilled in body language to notice his mother flinch as if unexpectedly scorched. “JT?” her voice grated, her throat sounded constricted.

 

“JT Padalecki. The architect.” His mind caught up then. His mother had called Jared, JT. It was a nickname he had only ever heard from Mark. They had discussed this. Jared never used it for business or at home. It was the name he used on the streets when he was young and the name he shared in later years, when picking men up for casual sex. Jensen stared at his mother, trying to judge what it was she knew of his boyfriend.

 

His mother’s eyes looked behind him and he turned to see what the distraction was. His father was striding towards them, looking pink and flustered. He noticed his son and greeted him heartily, ignoring Donna’s pointed glances. “Jensen, you’re looking good there. I’m hearing good news from Chad. I hear you’re bearing up well, all things considered. Mac is looking positively radiant so you will have to spend some time with her. It really is great to see you.” He slapped Jensen on the back affectionately, then stepped back to speak to Donna, “Apologies. Nasty business, got Beth a bit upset but it’s dealt with now.”

 

“What nasty business?” asked Jensen.

 

“Someone without an invite. Would you believe that? The nerve of some people.”

 

Donna had turned paper-white and Jensen looked between them, sensing some calamitous truth. “We should go somewhere private,” Donna choked out. “Chad be a dear and tell Mac we’re stepping out. She and Andy will have to mingle.

 

“Why do we need to do that dear?” Alan Ackles was blind to the tension.

 

They shut the heavy wooden door and Donna checked behind the furniture and curtains.

 

“You’re being a bit 007 Mama. What’s going on?”

 

“Alan dear, why was Beth upset?”

 

“As I said, we had an uninvited guest.”

 

“Was he about yay high, with dark hair and a black pinstripe suit?” She gestured with her hand high.

 

“Yes honey. Why does that matter? He shouldn’t be here. There’s a contract dammit, the bastard should leave her alone.”

 

Donna snapped her mouth and looked sadly between her husband and her son.

 

“Pa?” Jensen was trembling, “Who was it?” He already knew the answer but he didn’t want to believe, he needed to hear it spoken even if he didn’t want it to be so.

 

“This doesn’t concern you Jensen. Why don’t you go and help Mac?”

 

"Alan, I think..." Donna reached to touch her husband’s arm but Jensen interrupted, “If you touched Jared, if you made him leave Pa, then it’s every bit my business.”

 

“Jensen you shouldn't meddle with business you don't understand. All you need to know is that Beth has a contract with the man. He’s not allowed near her. I reminded him of that and he left. It’s dealt with.”

 

“He’s not in the suite Pa.”

 

“We found him a cab. Hopefully he’s well away by now.”

 

Jensen’s eyes were filled with tears. Donna glared at her husband and guided her son onto a chair. “I think what Jensen is asking dear, is why you asked his boyfriend to leave and where did he go? He‘s worried about him.”

 

“Boyfriend. What boyfriend?” Alan was still struggling to see what the fuss was about.

 

“Jared Padalecki is my boyfriend. I invited him. He was nervous about meeting you. I told him that my family is kind.” A single tear left his eyes and trickled down his cheek.

 

Alan blinked and then blustered, “But, _JT_ , that can’t be right.”

 

“Mac’s already met him Pa. Why isn’t he allowed near Aunt Beth, I don’t understand, He‘s not violent, did he hurt her? What did he do?”

 

“That’s nobody’s business but her’s, Son.”

 

“Mama?” he was pleading.

 

Donna huffed, caught between the two men. “He never hurt Beth. It’s just complicated and Beth’s business.” His mother wouldn‘t look him in the eyes.

 

“Then it’s simple, we can tell him to come back. It’s Mac’s party not Aunt Beth’s.”

 

Alan spoke again, “You don’t want to be with a man like that Jensen. I can’t believe he had you fooled. Believe me, he’s a whore and a gold-digger and he’s not welcome in our house. Best you let him go. I mean, a man like _that_ , you’re not thinking long term, it’s no loss. He’ll move on to his next mark and you’ll find someone more suitable.”

 

Jensen suddenly didn’t recognize the man in front of him. He stared at his father in amazement and anger. “He’s a respectable businessman, a fucking incredible architect and I don’t care about his past, because, yes, I know about most of it and what he hasn’t told me, he’ll have good reasons for. I love him Pa. If he’s not welcome in this family then forget you have a son. Enjoy your party and your society friends. Tell Mac all the best, I love her but I have to find Jared.”

 

He pushed past his father and nodded to his mother before leaving them there, speechless. _I love him_. All of a sudden it was easy to see, simple to say and maybe too late.

 

Chad was making out with his girlfriend in a corner of the hallway. “Chad I need you,” he said, pulling him by his wrist. Chad took one look at his friend’s broken expression and kissed his girl lightly on the cheek, “Later.”

 

“I need you to find the cab Jared left in, I have to find out where it went.” Chad’s detective brain got with the program through a slight buzz of alcohol.

 

“You go get a cab for us and I’ll make the calls.” His friend flipped his phone open and began dialing.

 

The night air was cold. Jensen checked Chad’s coat from the cloakroom and ran to the suite to grab his own. All of Jared’s baggage was still there, his coat hanging neatly in the mirrored wardrobe. Their phones were in the nightstand drawer. It had been Jared’s suggestion to leave them there, so their full attention was on Mackenzie. Jay was always the thoughtful one. He could see the missed calls registered on Jared’s and reached to check his own. There were no missed calls and no messages. He could see the mini bar reflected in the mirrored surface. He worried at his lower lip and crossed the room to it. He opened the door to inspect its contents but all he found was water and soda. He remembered the secretive call his boyfriend had made to room service and the maid fussing with the contents of a trolley. Typical Jared. He flicked the door shut, returned to the wardrobe, reached to the hanger and took Jared’s coat, he put it to his face, inhaling the candy-musk scent.

 

They tracked down the taxi driver using a mixture of police procedure and fiscal bribery. He gave details of the journey up to the point where Jared passed out. He described Jared waking and refusing medical attention, paying the fare with a $50 bill and not wanting change. He told them the general direction in which Jared had walked and confirmed he was in just a light shirt and pants. He shrugged as if to say, “Well, what can you do?” and Chad dragged Jensen away before he did anything unwise to him.

 

They kept searching into the early hours. As a favor to Jensen and Chad, a patrol car was released to assist but there was no sign of the tall man. Eventually, fearing for his friend’s health, Chad forced Jensen into one of the patrol cars and took him back to the PD. He made him hot coffee and sat him in the mess room. “He’s an adult Jen. You’re going to have to let him work this out on his own. If he’s not on the plane back then at least you know where to find him. He’s not going to abandon Caitlin or his babies.”

 

“What is he thinking about me right now Chad? He must hate me. What if he blacked out again? What if he’s sick somewhere? I never told him I love him.”

 

“Do you love him Jensen?” the voice was cut-glass sharp.

 

“Aunt Beth?”

 

“Your Mama told me what happened with you and with Jared. Everyone missed you.”

 

“Aunt Beth, I don’t want to get into an argument with you now. I'm not coming back until I find Jared. I don’t care what happened between you. I’m sorry if that’s harsh but I just want to find him. Yes I do love him,” his voice cracked.

 

“I think I know where he will be. We should go together.” Her eyes were glittering with unshed tears.

 

“Aunt Beth, if it upsets you, I can’t expect that. You can tell me where to search.”

 

“I’m an old lady Jensen and I have my pride. Perhaps I have had too much pride. I’ve been able to understand that for some time now, Jared never wanted to upset me and he’s never willingly hurt me. I want to find him too. C’mon Sugar.” She used her childhood endearment for Jensen and took his hand.

 

***

 

Beth gave directions to her driver and then slid the glass partition closed. “I owe you an explanation darling,” she took a deep breath and held Jensen’s hand.

 

Uncle Derek and I had a good marriage. We really did. We were best friends. He did his duty by me, did well in business and gave us children. He was a wonderful, attentive father, everything really. If there was one flaw, I could overlook it. He was always very discreet and careful, never flaunted it.

 

Jensen couldn’t see where this was going, he waited for her to resume.

 

“Uncle Derek was gay or maybe bi. Whatever you call it, he preferred men sexually. It wasn’t something you could be in our day. So we had our marriage and he had his paid _liaisons_. It worked well for many, many years. Then came what I called his late-life crisis. He met JT. Suddenly it wasn’t liaisons. It was a house together and a University Bursary, it was financing this _kid’s_ brother in a psychiatric home. It was staying nights with this barely legal boy, a hooker he’d picked off the street, and not coming home for days. He said it was love and that really stung me. How could it be? It killed me inside Jensen and as for the shame. Can you imagine if anyone found out Derek was shacked up with another man, someone younger than our own children?”

 

“He was a kid, you just said it yourself. How can you blame him? He was looking for a father figure and it sounds like Uncle Derek took advantage. How is that Jared’s fault?”

 

She shook her head sadly, “It wasn’t and I could see it, really I could. We went about our lives as if it wasn’t happening and JT was polite, discreet and quiet. He picked up all the manners, flair and grace that was expected of Derek’s partner, he even learned to cook for him. It burned me inside. I loved the man I married with passion and it was something he could never feel for me. JT had all of that. He was getting attention in the business too, his design for our building was fawned over by everyone and Derek pushed it hard, making sure every detail was as JT designed it. I felt ….abandoned and jealous.”

 

The car was slowing now, taking a turn from the main road down a bumpy lane.

 

“The straw that broke the camel’s back was Derek’s stroke.”

 

“He died in bed, I don’t see how that was an issue.”

 

“Oh, Sugar,” she paled and squeezed his hand. “He died in bed but it wasn’t mine. It wasn’t even at our home. I got a call from JT, distraught and panicking. I had to go and collect my dead husband from his lover’s bed, and that hurt so much. I had to bribe the doctor to lie about his place of death. I never got to say goodbye, I never had a final hug. JT was there with him at the end. It made me angry and your dad was so mad about the whole thing. I’m sorry. I admit I did want JT to suffer at the time, but it passes. Like you say he was young and inexperienced. He needed a father figure and Derek came alive with his youth and devotion. Tonight caught me off guard. I had no idea why JT was here, and he has every reason to hate me. I was scared. We should have asked him to explain but he just went, without a word. I never meant to hurt you.”

 

“Did you pay him off, to never tell?” Jensen’s quick mind remembered the difficulties he had encountered when he followed Jared’s money trail, and he was making connections.  

 

“The inheritance was there in the will. We asked him to agree to extra clauses to protect the family name. He didn’t object. In fact he was quiet as a mouse about it all.”

 

“He had to stay away, but what about the funeral, I didn’t notice him?”

 

“He didn’t go. It was one of the clauses.” They were rolling to a stop now by the dimly lit ‘CEMETERY’ plaque. “Sometimes when I come here, there are flowers, beautifully arranged by a florist, but wild flowers and blossom nevertheless, whatever is blooming locally. Derek loved the Texas wildlife. He would point flowers out and name them all. He never had the same passion for domestic flowers. I asked the florist about the arrangements once. She said she didn’t have a name, just a regular money order and a list of dates when they were to be placed. The dates mean nothing to me. That’s why I think he’s here.”

 

Her driver passed lanterns to both of them, took one himself and grabbed a blanket from the trunk.

 

Jensen protested, “Beth, you shouldn’t come, it’s dark, you could fall and hurt yourself.”

 

“I know the way to my husband in the dark, Sugar. I’m not past it yet. C’mon.”

 

Stars shone in a clear, cold sky. Jared sat by the headstone, pale in the weak illumination of the half moon. His knees were drawn into his chest and his head rested on his knees, making him appear so much smaller than his 6‘4 frame. Jensen surged towards him but Beth put out her hand to stop him and her driver held him back. Beth took the blanket and walked to Jared. She stooped to her knees in front of him and said something too low for Jensen to hear. Then she threw the blanket around the big man and sat beside him. She continued speaking quietly until Jared raised his head and looked at her. She put her hands out to him and he took her into a hug. Jensen could see their chests heaving as they sobbed together by the grave of the man they had both loved. Jensen moved to sit beside them and Jared took him by the hand and pulled him to his side. The driver tactfully returned to the car and they sat together until the tears dried up.

 

“I could kill for a hot breakfast,” Beth said, breaking the silence.

 

“Pancakes with syrup,” said Jared.

 

“Strong coffee,” added Jensen.

 

They made their way back to the car with Beth making promises to wake the cook. 


	35. Chapter 35

They went back to the Country Club. They sat in their well appointed suite and Beth nibbled on some toast and then excused herself, “You boys be sure to come and see me soon. She placed a hand over Jared’s, “Both of you are always welcome.”

 

He nodded at her, “Thanks. Beth”

 

“We will,” replied Jensen.

 

The pancakes were good but Jared didn’t have much of an appetite. Jensen sipped his coffee and toyed with his breakfast. They sat only inches from each other but there was a chasm between them. Jensen had become progressively distant since they’d arrived back in their accommodation and Jared felt lost and helpless. He had been offered absolution by the one person he’d never expected or asked it from and yet the one who never judged him, whose understanding he needed most, was slipping away from him.

 

He moved to put an arm around the green-eyed man but Jensen ducked away from him, shrugged it away and yawned. “I’m turning in. You take the bed, it’s bigger. I’ll grab the couch.” Jensen opened the mini bar and peered in, then shut it again with a slam. He picked up the phone, dialed room service and asked for bottle of Jack.

 

“Jen,” Jared pleaded.

 

“I can’t deal with this right now. I need to sleep,” Jensen snapped at him.

 

“Fine, but not drink. Not that. Please.”

 

“You know what,” Jensen spat, “You’re not my mother or my father. You’re sure as hell not my aunt. You’re not family, you’re not even older than me, so you can keep your advice to yourself Jay,” He knew how much it would hurt, even as he said it, but his give-a-damn was as busted as the shattered image of his own family.

 

Jared got ready for bed and slipped under the covers. He didn’t move to shut the partition between the sitting area and the bedroom and Jensen made no effort to close it. The architect lay, feigning sleep, watching through half closed eyelids as Jensen took the bottle and tipped the maid. He heard the glug as it poured and the splash of the amber fluid hitting the base and sides of the tumbler. The noise made him shudder with the memories of his father’s addiction. He saw Jensen tip the glass back and empty it with one gulp and then pour another, and he knew it wouldn’t stop there. Too many years watching of bottles emptied while love and lives faded, had taught him that. Jared had never felt so alone in a bed and he had no idea what he could do to make things better. He turned on his side, away from the view of Jensen throwing away his sobriety, and his exhausted body reluctantly slipped into a light, fitful sleep. 

 

Jared awoke, unsure of the time, to the sound of wretched vomiting and moaning. He forced himself out of bed and over to the bathroom. He could see a half bottle of Jack in the sitting area. “Jen. You okay?” He nudged at the bathroom door and it swung open to reveal Jensen, pale and sweaty kneeling over the toilet.

 

“M’super. Doc Carver is a bastard.”

 

Jared grabbed a washcloth and ran it under cool water. He wiped Jensen’s face.

 

“Did you have a second bottle?”

 

“Nah,” groaned Jensen “You know those little pills they give alcoholics to keep them off the booze?”

 

Jared’s eyebrow raised.

 

“Yeah. They work like a bitch,” Jensen continued to retch. “Why do you care anyway?”

 

Jared leaned against the vanity. “I thought I was your boyfriend. It’s sort of in the job description. Is this us over? Because even if it is, I’d still care.” He ran his fingers through his hair and pulled nervously at the hem of his top. He took the washcloth from Jensen, rinsed and returned it.

 

“I don’t know what this is any more,” Jensen sounded small and weary.

 

“What did Beth say? About me, I mean.”

 

“She told me everything Jay.”

 

“She doesn’t know anything. Not really.”

 

You fucked my godfather for four years and he died in your bed. I’d like you to tell me she got that bit wrong, because it’s screwing with my head.”

 

“Jen, drink is screwing with your head. I fucked Misha, hell, I fucked half our local population and that doesn’t seem to bother you. In fact you had no problem with any of my past at all, until now.”

 

“You should have told me.”

 

“Then I would not only be a gold digging whore but one that breaks his promises. How is that better?”

 

“Who called you that?”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Jared slouched, with his hands and legs crossed. His eyes were dull and his jaw tense.

 

Jensen wiped his face with a dry towel, “I think it’s over now.”

 

“Us?  You should know I don’t regret what happened with Derek. I’m sorry if it hurts you, or ruins your childhood memories, but I’m glad it’s out. I’m glad someone else can finally know how much he meant to me. It wasn’t dirty and it wasn’t sordid. Derek wasn’t a pedophile and we didn’t mean for it to happen. It just did.” Hazel-eyes glistened, “I wish I had been strong enough to walk away when I found out about his family, his business and his life but I wasn’t. I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t a whore. I was, and it was how we met, but we never did it like that, he was never my client in the end. I wish I could say that in the first few months it wasn’t about safety and somewhere to live but it was. None of that matters because I fell in love with him, and I think he loved me too. I’m not pretending it wasn’t a screwed up version of love because he was like a father and _it turned me on_. We were good together and the day he died, he was happy. He taught me so much about life. Not just practicalities, business and manners. He taught me that there are good people out there. He gave me self-respect and let me grow up in safety. Yes we had sex and sometimes he disciplined me, but we both got off on it. He never pushed me to do anything I was uncomfortable with. Whatever you think of me as you walk away from this relationship, it doesn’t change who he was to you. He never stopped loving anyone else, even Beth. Please don’t think badly of him.”

 

“I meant, I think I’ve stopped throwing up now,” Jensen struggled to get up from the smooth tiled floor.

 

"Oh," Jared breathed out with relief and reached out a hand to help him up. “You should come to bed. Not for sex. You should get some proper sleep.”

 

“It’s 10 a.m.”

 

“You looked for me all night. I’m sorry. I should have left a note.”

 

“What were you going to say? _‘Dear Jensen. Your family isn’t very nice. I’m going to run away and die of hypothermia.’_ Even if you’d left a note telling me not to look for you I still would have done it.”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with your parents Jensen. They wanted to protect their friend. That’s all.”

 

“You know, Beth told me her side of the story and you’ve told me yours. The subject that neither of you even touched on was money. It’s obvious to me it was never about that for either of you. So, the only person that could have made that accusation is my father. That’s just awesome.” He brushed his teeth and let Jared support him across to the bed and help him in.

 

“So all of this is because you’re freaked out that I had a relationship with an older man, who happened to be family, and your dad called me on it? He wasn’t being unreasonable. There’s a contract and he was in his rights. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it would happen. A population of 100,000 and I meet the one person I can’t go near. It wasn’t supposed to happen.”

 

Jensen lay with his back to Jared, squeezed his eyes shut and let his head sink into the pillow. “It’s not about that. Not really.”

 

Jared rested his hand on his back and Jensen flinched away again. Jared winced, “Then tell me.”

 

Jensen huffed and ran his hand over his chin, scraping over the stubble there. “Before I met you I knew I was going to live a quiet life with my books. I was retired from the police force and I didn’t ever have to look at the photographs of mutilated bodies again. I believed my family to be good, honest people who weren’t small-minded and didn’t keep dirty little secrets. I didn’t have to be terrified that the person I love was gone or that something terrible might happen to him because of me. I didn’t have to make a choice between my father and the man I love. I’m angry at my Uncle for what he did but I don’t understand why. I’m angry at myself for being angry because I know I’ve done almost exactly what he did. It’s gotten so complicated and I don’t even know where to start. I need a drink but I don’t want one. I need you but that’s not fair. I love my father but I don’t like him any more. I want to have it together so I can be there for you, but I’m falling apart.”

 

“You love me?” Jared’s eyes were wide and bright.

 

“Yes, but I don’t know if I can do this. I can’t expect you to want me, want all this mess around me and I know I love you sounds ridiculous so soon, but,” he struggled to finish, “but it just _is_ and I‘m scared.” Jensen twisted around to see Jared gazing at him with a wide, dreamy grin on his face, “Hang on. I poured all that out and all you heard was _I love you_?”

 

“It’s the only thing that really matters isn’t it? Because if we love each other we can deal with the rest together.”

 

“Jared. Just by being with you I’ve painted a glaring target on your back. How are we going to deal with that? How it felt, this evening, when I didn't know what had happened to you,it was ..." Jensen shook his head, unable to describe his emotions, "All I know is I can’t see you hurt, I’d rather let you go.”

 

“How can you think that pushing me away won't hurt me more? What do you mean a target?”

 

Jensen could no longer keep all the details confidential, there was potential for Jared to be a victim and he needed to know about Laing and The Game. He gave a brief overview of the investigation and of the information Chad had given him, leaving out references to Caitlin. He would show him photographs of the suspects later.

 

Jared listened attentively and thought about it for a few minutes before speaking, “It doesn’t seem to matter to the Players if we are a couple or not, the others weren‘t in a relationship were they? If I’m already a target it’s not going to change anything. It sounds like the resources are finally in place to catch these sons of bitches. We can deal with it together.” He leaned in and gave Jensen a kiss, barely a touch to his lips. “In case you didn’t get the reference earlier, I love you Jensen Ackles. I may be your Baby but I’m not a child. We stay careful and you catch the bastards. Does that work for you? Can we go to sleep together, in the same bed now?”

 

“You want me to stay in bed with you?”

 

“I’ve never wanted anything more. I’ve never felt more alone than when you were on the couch and I was over here without you.”

 

“We’ll miss the flight.”

 

“Stuff it. The suite was booked for three days and I think between us we can rustle up the money for another flight, don’t you?”

 

“Wait. Did you say you love me?”

 

“Mmhmm.”

 

Jensen nestled his head on Jared’s chest and kissed him affectionately. “I am going to fuck you senseless when we wake up,” he murmured. He let out a slight snuffle, his eyes closed and his breath was steady within minutes. Jared looped an arm around him to pull him in close and kissed the crown of his head. He gave in to the enveloping blackness and both of them slept deeply and dreamlessly.


	36. Chapter 36

It’s hard to freak out when you awake, naked, to the sensation of a warm cavernous mouth sucking down your morning wood, sliding over it with the very faintest brush of teeth, to give that certain extra shiver of arousal. When it’s accompanied by lube slick fingers rubbing the puckered rim of your ass and the vision of the wickedest green-eyes gazing up at you, then surely all a man can do is moan and get with the program. “Nnngh, gah, Jensen mmm don’t stop, don’t ever stop.” Jared groaned, his hips snapping into action and rocking deeper between the sinful pink lips. He thrashed on the bed, hands grabbing bunches of sheet.

 

Nu-uh. Jensen stopped and sucked the length upwards, letting it pop out from between his lips. His tongue darted out between his teeth and licked his own lips slick then his face was gone as he dived down to suckle first one then both of Jared’s balls into his mouth. He released them and nipped down on a small patch of flesh on his thigh to leave a round purple mark while a second finger scissored into Jared.

 

“Unghh, shit, crap, Jen what you do to me.”

 

“I remember promising to fuck you senseless.” Jensen’s face was looking up at him, from a resting place between his hips. His smirk was downright unholy and it made Jared’s aching-hard dick twitch. Jared's lips quirked upwards, he couldn’t believe that he was going to laugh now but he couldn’t help himself. He chuckled and the more he tried to hold it back the more it sounded like a cat with a furball. Jensen’s lips twitched as he stopped to watch his lover’s face. “Am I amusing you?” he said with the hugest grin.

 

“I just,” there were tears of mirth running down Jared’s face, “I just love you and I don’t ever want you to stop smirking.”

 

Jensen growled, a half roar, half moan, “I should spank you for that.”

 

Jared was silent in a moment, needy, lustful hazel eyes locking on to his lover’s, “You wouldn‘t?”

 

It was Jensen’s turn to laugh, “You worried me sick last night and now you laugh at my sex face. I totally would.”

 

There was a barely perceptible but serious nod from Jared and Jensen sat up. He'd done this before with Tom, a game in foreplay but he could see the dark neediness in Jared's eyes and he understood that here, with this gentle man, there was a difference. His heart burst with the knowledge that his lover trusted him to do this. He licked his lips and flexed his hand theatrically. “Get over my knee Baby. Gonna teach you a lesson.”

 

It wasn’t particularly graceful, Jared was, after all, incredibly large for such a feat and he was careful not to lean too heavily on Jensen’s legs. It was all he could do to suppress his laughter again. A shiver went through him as Jensen’s hand rested on his left ass cheek and rubbed in circular motion pushing him down onto his legs so his red, engorged cock was trapped by firm muscular thighs. Jensen’s other hand joined the motion, drawing firm circles on his right cheek. “You ready, Baby?” Jensen’s voice was husky and aroused.

 

Jared closed his eyes and breathed out. He trusted Jensen to give him this, “Do it.”

 

Jensen raised his hand high and Jared tried to watch it, Jensen pushed his head back down. “No!” The slap landed with a loud crack on his left buttock and Jared flinched with a sharp intake of breath and a squeak on the exhale. “One. That is for allowing my father to insult you without argument,” he massaged the reddened area and raised his hand again Thwack! “Two. That is for doubting yourself.” He raised his hand up without delay this time and the open-palm smacks rained down, hard but controlled. Jensen rubbed his own hand between slaps, son of a bitch, it stung him, but he wasn’t about to stop.

 

“Three, is for leaving without telling me where you were, because that terrified me Jay.” Jared was squirming and breathing hard but Jensen held him firmly. Jared’s cock was rigid and leaking precome. Jensen’s felt hard enough to drill diamonds and it was all he could do not to stop and fuck his lover right there and then. “Four is for risking hypothermia by running into the night without a coat.” Jared was snapping his hips into Jensen’s thighs and Jensen stopped and put a hand on him. “You don’t get off on this Baby. Stay still.”

 

There was a loud crack as he resumed. “Five is for letting me behave like a jerk to you.” There were red hand marks on both ass cheeks by the time he reached ten and a faint hitched sob from Jared as he brought his palm down for the last slap. “Ten. Oh Baby. Number ten is for laughing at my sex-face.” He leaned to kiss the red marks, touching his lips lightly over them, raising a slight hiss from him, before guiding Jared to lie back on the bed. "All done Baby. It's over, forgotten. You don't get to punish yourself for any of it."

 

Jared settled back on the disheveled comforter. He winced at the red-hot sting as his ass rested into the fabric. His hair lay in a jumbled halo, damp with sweat and tears, his eyes were bright and his face moist, as he allowed himself to accept the exoneration he was being offered. He looked in wonder at the man looming over him. Jensen was flushed with arousal, his hair flattened, eyes glittering more gold than green, his proud cheekbones pink and his lips full, wet and slightly parted. Their cocks ground together as Jensen lay on top of him, taking his weight on his arms, staring down at him. “You okay?”

 

“M’good,” Jared nodded tearfully, he looked up through thick, wet lashes and strands of hair, “thanks, I needed...” he trailed off, unsure what to say.

 

Jensen’s fingers delicately brushed his hair from his eyes, “I love you Jared Padalecki. You’re mine and I don’t want you to take shit from anyone anymore. We’re in this together, so, in future we’re going to talk about this crap. You're going to learn to say no and I am going to learn to listen to your advice. I’m sorry you had to see me drinking. I’m not going to let it happen again.” Jensen leaned in and kissed him hard and deep, tongue swirling, over teeth and gums, then letting Jared in to tongue-fuck him.

 

Jared pulled away with a brief suck of his tongue and a nip to his lower lip. He nodded, his eyes blown with lust and a desire for release. “Mmm. How ‘bout we discuss you fucking me, right now. He snapped his hips up high, hard against Jensen and they both moaned. Jensen pushed Jared’s thighs back and Jared felt his hand move as he patted on the bed for the lube and a condom. He heard the packet tear and felt the cool slip of lube as Jensen’s fingers slipped easily into his puckered hole and scissored. “M’ready.”

 

Jensen shushed Jared and sucked down hard on the pulse point on his neck as he pushed in. He rocked gently, letting Jared adjust, then slid deep and fast, filling the hot, tight channel. He heard the hiss as his flesh met the tender skin, still marked with his handprint. He allowed himself a faint chuckle, “Sore baby?”

 

“Mmm. Good sore,” whimpered the brunette, writhing beneath him. He pulled back slowly, letting Jared squirm in anticipation before giving in to the slip and slide, fucking deep and fast, hitting the sweet spot to elicit screams and lewd exclamations from his lover’s lips.

 

“Slick up your fingers,” whispered Jensen, “Want you to come with me.”

 

Jared grinned and rested his fingers against Jensen’s sinful lips. “So get them wet.” A pink O was formed as Jared pushed them in. He felt the hot wet slide as his fingers were tongued and the vacuum pull as they were sucked into the back of Jensen’s mouth and coated with saliva. He pulled them out with an obscene pop, placed his hand around his own cock and stroked upwards with measured showmanship. It only took five firm strokes before Jared lost it, moaning Jensen’s name. The thick white fluid coated his hand and stomach and his muscles tensed hard around Jensen’s pistoning member. Jared slipped his sticky fingers over Jensen’s chest, coating his pert nipples and pinching at them. Jensen came harder than he could ever remember, mewling and groaning, too breathless to scream. He collapsed sated, over his lover and closed his eyes.

 

Jensen woke to Jared’s awkward attempt to slide him over a little. “Dude you’re heavy.” He shifted his weight to the bed beside him. Ignoring the cooling sweat and stickiness he snuggled to lie against Jared’s chest, moving his head into the rhythmic carding of Jared’s hands through his hair. “I love you,” Jared murmured.

 

“Do you think they have good soundproofing in these rooms?” Jensen asked.

 

“The walls and doors are quite thick but we were very loud,” laughed Jared and added, as he looked about the bed, “Ew, we should tip the maid well.”

 

“I love you too Jay.”

 

They stayed like that for a long while until Jared started to fidget. He kissed the freckles by Jensen‘s ear and murmured into it “I was wondering if there was any way we can use that enormous spa bath, if I help you.”

 

“Oh I think there’s every possibility,” came the reply and the smirk that accompanied it was of the smutty variety.

 

***

Jensen phoned Mac and they all met for dinner, Jared, Jensen, Mackenzie and Andrew.

 

Jensen made apologies for their absence from the party but wouldn’t elaborate on the details. He admitted he had argued with their father and added that he didn’t see a resolution just yet but he wasn‘t going to dwell on it. He would let his emotions settle and maybe he could be friends with his father again in the future. Jared squeezed his thigh reassuringly. He had argued to go to Jensen’s parents with him and attempt to make peace but Jensen was adamant that it should be his father apologizing to Jared before progress could be made. Mac looked a little sad but agreed to not to interfere. Her future husband held her hand supportively and kissed her cheek gently. “Thanks for coming to dinner,” he said to them, “We did miss you.”

 

They chatted as they ate and Jensen discovered that he liked Andrew. He had a great sense of humor, was affectionate and loving to his sister but had some backbone and could withstand her ribbing and throw it back at her with sarcastic replies. Jensen watched as Jared made animated conversation with them both, completely at ease in this company. They laughed a lot. When the dessert menu was presented Mac looked on bug-eyed as her brother and his boyfriend chose chocolate fudge cake. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat this much big brother. What have you been doing to work up that sort of appetite?” She winked at Jared who beamed at her with a wicked gleam in his eye and shifted slightly on his seat, reminded of a faint, stinging glow.

 

“Sis, you really shouldn’t ask that sort of thing if you don’t want a detailed answer. How detailed would you like me to be?”

 

She waved her arms to indicate the negative, “No, no, no. It’s just that you both appear to have eaten earlier.” She reached and touched a fresh purple hickey, almost hidden by the collar of Jensen’s button-down and Andrew looked away as he choked back a laugh.

 

Jensen countered by reaching into his pocket for an envelope and holding it, just out of her reach. “So it seems you don’t want our present then.”

 

Mackenzie stretched an arm to snatch at it and almost overbalanced into the sweet confection. Jared joined in to prise the envelope from Jensen‘s hand with a booming laugh, his head thrown back. Of course that was a distraction Jensen couldn‘t resist and Mac grabbed the envelope as her brother moved in to kiss his boyfriend’s neck .

 

She ripped it open and gasped, showing it to her fiancé and grabbing Jensen’s hand to kiss it. “That is so romantic, a champagne breakfast on a dawn balloon ride. She took Jared’s hand and kissed it next. My brother could never have thought of that on his own, thank you so much.”

 

“Additionally my colleague Misha would like you to know that he can source some very interesting and robust bedroom furn...”

 

Jared lifted one large hand and placed it over Jensen’s mouth, gagging him. “You’ll have to excuse my boyfriend, he has no ‘off’ button.” They all dissolved into laughter, drawing glances from the other diners.

 

***

 

They took an early flight the next day. As they were about to enter the departures lounge Jared nudged Jensen and pulled him back into the main airport where Donna Ackles stood waving at them, alone and apprehensive. “Jen, I think someone is trying to get your attention.”

 

“Ma!.”

 

“I wanted to see you before you went,” she said. She looked up at Jared and he smiled at her.

 

“It’s lovely to meet you Mrs. Ackles,” he said, offering his hand.

 

“You grew up just fine didn’t you?” Donna Ackles shook his hand and then took him into a one armed hug. “What you must think of us!”

 

She moved to Jensen, smothering him in a close embrace. “Don’t you push us away Jensen. Beth and I will knock sense into that father of yours, you’ll see. The door is always open. We love you. You know that right?”

 

“I know Mama.”

 

“Chef baked your favorite cookies. I wrapped them up for you,” she shoved them into her son’s hand. “Off you go then.” She shooed them away and they left hand in hand with a wave back at her.


	37. Chapter 37

Danneel stood straight and acknowledged Mrs. Farra as she entered the building. Beth’s heels clicked across the lobby floor. “Tch. Danneel, get that display case moved out of here. It’s an eyesore.” Jensen’s godmother continued on her way, into the elevator, without seeing the bewildered look on the receptionist’s face.

 

***

Caitlin ate her breakfast and finished packing her few belongings. She grabbed her notebook and it fell to the page she had written the night before. She re-read it, startled by the words she didn’t remember writing; _I know some fantastic places to hide bodies. You have to remember._ She looked about the room that had been her prison for these last weeks, tore the page out of the book and ripped it into tiny pieces. She wasn’t staying here. Remember what?

 

***

 

Jared bent over his work, his tongue between his teeth, deep in concentration. He sketched an elevation, a whole building view and floor plans. He could use CAD but the sensation of graphite sliding over paper, creating new space, still gave him a thrill. He lost himself in the task in the quiet of his office, oblivious to the occasional grunt or whine as his dogs shifted at his feet.

 

***

 

Misha bent over the sweating man and banged loudly on the desk. Jensen stood silently at the back of the room, leaning on his stick, more for effect than purpose. “I wonder what your coworkers and your wife would think of your habits? We could keep you here longer. Maybe the local press could be here when you left, a quick call, some mistaken facts. Huh. Should we do that?”

 

Jensen moved toward the desk and touched Misha’s arm. “Detective Collins, if you don’t mind, maybe I can talk to him?” Misha grimaced behind the man’s back, biting back a laugh at Jensen’s classic good cop to his bad cop routine. “We all know you did it. Really what’s the point in denying it? All we’re asking is why like that? There’s a lot of folk say it was consensual and who are we to argue with that if there’s no evidence otherwise? We haven’t arrested you yet, it’s just a friendly chat.”

 

“We should arrest him.” said Misha. “Then we can contact his wife to let him know he’s here. It might accidentally slip out,” he shrugged.

 

“Arrest me if you have the evidence. I get to call my lawyer. I ain’t saying no more.”

 

They both knew they didn’t have the evidence to go further with this. Misha nodded at Jensen to continue. “Look, it’s a lot of bother to drag you through the courts over a simple mistake with a hooker. It all seems silly doesn’t it?” he opened a file to one side of the desk and started to spread photographs out. “See, the problem we have is the pattern. It’s obvious to us that you’ve no gangland connections. You’ve certainly not been playing any games with drug lords, but...” Jensen tutted and shook his head “all these men did and just look at the size of the knife kink that someone has. You know we never found the person who did all this. Probably still out there. Likely gonna be pissed at anyone taking his trademark.”

 

Misha finished, “Imagine if there was gossip about you. I would fear for your safety.”

 

The man turned a shade greyer as he saw the Murphy and Riordan pictures and his hands trembled as he lifted them to look closer. “It was agreed with her pimp,” he blurted out. They both sat down to listen to the man‘s story.

 

They let him go in the end, no hope of bringing a conviction. They didn’t choose to reassure him about the age of the crime in the photographs. Let him stew in his own fears.

 

“$3,000 dollars to scar her like this, for a sexual kick.” Misha felt sick.

 

“I still don’t get it Misha. Surely there was something else, some better reason Caitlin, Jane, whoever she was, did this to herself, but, _because she needed to remember_ \- that’s just crazy and why this pattern? Where has she seen it before?”

 

“Newsflash Jen. She _is_ crazy.”

 

Something niggled at the base of Jensen’s mind, fresh in his consciousness from the events of the weekend. “Misha, do me a favor, check out if the Riordan/Matthews maiden aunt died, she’d be over a hundred by now. See if there was any property in the inheritance. Maybe there’s a way to track the girl down.”

 

“I am Robin to your Batman Sir!” quipped the blue eyed detective.

 

“I can’t do this right now, she’s detracting from my main investigation. You can tell Jared what we‘ve got so far. When you go over, make sure he’s got his doors locked will you?”

 

“Done. You know we’ll keep up regular patrols past Madison House don’t you? You need to let us worry about protecting both of you. We’re depending on you to find the bastards, so you have to focus.” Misha left his office.

 

Jensen sipped coffee and cleared his desk. He closed his eyes and focused on nothing, a white void. He added details in a mental timeline, one at a time, sighting after sighting. When he started to falter he stood in front of the map, joining the pin dots, one after another. Everything stopped in the previous two weeks. Nothing. No sightings. None of his fake identities surfaced. Silence. As if he knew. As if he had worked out the PD’s game plan. As if he had found out about Jensen.

 

He took the paperwork out again, studied the details of the Fay and Nancy crime-scene. A television screen had been buried with them. HD, widescreen and big, with cables to connect to the internet. They had seen Laing torture his own victims in glorious high definition. Someone had to have acquired the TV and it was unlikely that the Painters or Laing had the cash for it. It had to be stolen. No doubt the Texas team were already on that but he mailed a note anyway.

 

The reply was fast and made him angry. He should have known this earlier. The screen had been purchased using a forged credit card. This one was new to him. He set about following its trail, losing himself in concentration for two hours.

 

Sarge came in with coffee and a lecture about getting fresh air and rest. He agreed that his advice was sound and the cop managed a brief look of smugness till Jensen crossed the room, opened the window a fraction, said, “There that’s better,” and sat back in front of his screen, waving him away.

 

The credit card led to a car rental, led to a fuel purchase with another card. When he was satisfied he had followed every lead as far as it would go, he rang Chad. Rubbing at his temple and dragging up every fiber of calm he owned he started, “Chad. He’s here and I think he wants us to know it. The trail is too obvious.”

 

“I know Jen. Misha called. Are you sitting? Jared identified Laing from the mug-shots. He thinks he saw him in the car park at Glenview. I want you to go home now, or even better, to Jared’s. We’ve stepped up patrols, just make sure you’re armed. Okay?”

 

“Caitlin?”

 

“She’s back at Madison House. Thought you’d like to know that there was no match to her prints or DNA at the Fay crime scene. The perpetrators weren’t tidy so the chances of her being involved is just about nil. She’s Jared’s responsibility and that makes her a target so we’ll be watching out for her too.”

 

Unconsciously Jensen breathed a sigh of relief, “Chad?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Are we bait here?”

 

There was silence and then Chad cleared his throat. “Not deliberately Jen. But you know, if he is here and has met Jared, chances are he’s coming for you. We can’t ignore that opportunity. Local PD are organizing a team for you, they‘ll be available for briefing in the morning.”

 

“ _Opportunity_! I hate you Chad. I will be the next killer if Jared or any of my friends get harmed in any way. Do you understand me?” His hands were shaking.

 

“Go home Jen, there’s an unmarked car organized to take you.”

 

***

 

There was a soft light shining from the architect’s office. Jensen had the car stop by the office door and rapped on it, waving at Jared through the glass panel. Jared scooted his chair over to see and got up to open the door. There was barely time for the lock to click shut before Jensen was pushing Jared against the wall, mouth sliding over his, tongue darting between the readily parted lips. Jared took him into a close embrace and kissed back fervently.

 

“Mmm. Good evening,” Jensen took in the draughtsman’s table pooled in bright light. “You’re still working. Wow, look at that, I didn’t think anyone did that anymore.”

 

“I like to work in pencil sometimes, puts me closer to the design somehow. I’m using CAD for the formal submission but I haven’t done any new-building design in ages so here I am.” He sat on his chair and kicked back into the desk. Jensen placed his hands lightly on his shoulders, massaging gently. “I have to get this finished by Wednesday so you are not allowed to distract me, however clever your fingers are,” pointed out the architect.

 

“Do we get to talk about your safety at some point?”

 

“Our safety. That will be around the time that the Chinese, that you are going to order, arrives, and Caitlin and JD are here to eat it with us. I think they need to be in on this conversation, don’t you?”

 

“Yeah. Okay. Can I?” Jensen picked up the drawing to the side of the board and whistled, “This is, I don’t know, unusual, but it’s so striking. Who is it for?”

 

“It’s a tender submission for Johns Hopkins Hospital in Maryland. It’s for a new dementia center. I want to make it unique and intuitive to navigate, rather than depending on signs and memory. If that makes any sense.”

 

“And beautiful too. Jay, it makes perfect sense. So it has to be mailed by Wednesday then?”

 

“No, I’ll finalize numbers tomorrow and fly through with it on Wednesday. There’s a question and answer session with the financiers. Ten minutes, but it has to be done. I haven’t wanted to do anything like this for so long but this time I can feel it’s right. I want to do this one. I know I can make it stand out,” his face was lit with almost child-like enthusiasm. “I already agreed Caitlin can come with me. We’re going Christmas shopping and getting some things for Thanksgiving. It is Thanksgiving on Thursday remember.”

 

“Is that wise? What happens if she freaks out?”

 

“Doc thinks it’s a good idea, she’s been fine for a while, no problems with crowds, no alternate personalities. There’s a good possibility this is all her, without her memories. JD has taken her all over this city on trips, including a visit to the airport. So we go places, do things and see what surfaces.”

 

“And if she gets memory back while you’re away and freaks out?”

 

“I’m visiting a hospital, the Doc’s given me contacts. It has to be done sometime.”

 

“And it has nothing to do with the name of the hospital, ‘John’s Hopkins’. Do you think it might be where she was originally admitted? Do you think she‘ll recognize something?”

 

“It’s one of hundreds of hospitals with the name John, but yeah it’s a long-shot and if I’m going to be there we may as well try it.”

 

“I could say no.”

 

“I wouldn’t accept that Jen. This is my vision, my business we‘re talking about.”

 

“You’re bossy.”

 

“This is business-me. You don’t want to mess with business-me, business-me is badass. Now go order me some food. There’s menus on the kitchen notice-board, I could eat a horse,” he nudged his boyfriend’s ribs. “I’ll be through soon, we’ll talk some more.”

 

***

 

Caitlin and JD sat with shoulders touching, they shared chopsticks and held hands. Jared beamed at them and back at Jensen. Harley and Sadie lurked at their feet pretending not to be interested in scraps, while nudging ever closer to Caitlin, who was sneaking the occasional piece of meat to them and looking innocently in the other direction. Every so often Jensen looked across at Caitlin to find her brown eyes fixed on him, some undefined emotion shuttered behind them. He shifted uneasily and looked away. Every instinct he had was shouting that she didn’t add-up, something wasn’t right and he couldn’t put his finger on it.

 

“This kung-po chicken is amazing,” said Jared, snatching the last mouthful between his chopsticks.

 

“Oh no you don’t,” Jensen sprang at him, landing on his lap in an attempt to take it from the chopsticks. He grabbed it with his teeth and sucked it into his mouth with a mischievous grin. Jared wrestled playfully and their lips met for a long, lazy kiss. They pulled away and Jensen licked his lips suggestively, “Tasty,” he said and they laughed together.

 

“So are you an item then?” Caitlin asked curiously.

 

“Oh, yes, this is my boyfriend. Every. Single. Freckled. Part.” Jared kissed between words, working his way from Jensen’s chin to the skin showing in the V of his shirt.

 

“Oh. Right. If you could stay clothed, at least until we’ve finished eating, that would probably be best.”

 

“No fair!” chuckled Jensen.

 

JD cleared his throat and looked seriously at Jensen. “Jared said you needed to talk to us, something about your police work.”

 

Jensen set about explaining the situation to them, glossing over the most disturbing aspects of the crimes and emphasizing the need to be vigilant and stay safe. Jensen discovered that JD had a gun and the training to use it. It was agreed that even walking Harley and Sadie would be undertaken in pairs. Spray mace was pocketed and emergency numbers shared. Jensen had all of them study the photographs of Laing and Painter. They fell into a thick silence which Caitlin broke, “Jensen, how about you help me clear the dishes?” Jensen stayed Jared and JD with a hand gesture and followed her into the kitchen, carrying the dishes. She turned the faucet on and leaned against the counter as the sink filled. “What is it with you and me?” She queried bluntly.

 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jensen was flustered.

 

“You’ll have to excuse me but I honestly don’t remember you well. I think we met, before Glenview, but it isn’t clear to me. Did something happen?”

 

“You were screaming and I shot the lock out of your door.”

 

“No, I think..” she scrunched up her face as if in concentration, “I think before then. You’re a cop. Did you ever arrest me, the Jane-me? You can say, I won’t be shy about it.”

 

“No. This wasn’t my beat Caitie. Why do you think that?”

 

She shook her head as if trying to dislodge memories. “I’m sorry. You make me so angry, so confused, as if you can’t be real. I saw you in my dreams, you know. Why would that be? I don’t know what I feel around you and I‘ve no clue why.”

 

“Was I heroic?” he snarked light-heartedly.

 

She shook her head. “You were dead and I was furious with you.”

 

“Oh. Well.” Jensen struggled for words. “You know I’m never going to hurt you don’t you Caitie?” he said gently.

 

“I know it. Jared tells me it and I trust Jared. It just doesn’t feel like that. Give me time.” She reached out to touch his hand. “I can see how you are together, it‘s wonderful, really. Do you love him?”

 

“Yeah, I do.”

 

“Then that’s what matters, he’s better around you. I can see that.”

 

“Do you love him Caitlin? Does our relationship upset you?”

 

“Of course I love him, he’s been wonderful, my rock. Romantically though, nope, I definitely go for older, straight men. Oh God, I hope I‘m not married. It could get messy.” She peeked through the doorway at JD and winked at Jensen.

 

“How long does it take to wash a few dishes?” Jared strode in and stood behind Jensen winding his arms around his waist and pulling him back into his chest. He breathed hotly on his neck and laved a path with his tongue from the back of his ear to the top of his spine. Delightful little shivers coursed through the detective’s body. “Hmm” was all he could manage.

 

“We’re done,” laughed Caitlin. “Get a room.”

 

“As I recall it’s just down this hallway,” replied Jared, manhandling Jensen toward it.

 

JD ambled across to join Caitlin. “You know I think we should go now.”

 

“Mmm, not gonna stop you,” Jared purred. “Make sure you lock up well and turn the intercom on, unless...” he looked at JD and back at Caitlin, “Unless you have company of course.”

 

“I think I may have company,” Caitlin purred.

 

JD grabbed Caitlin’s hand and hugged her into him for a heated kiss as they left.

 

Jared’s door shut with a thud and they tumbled onto the bed together. He mumbled into Jensen’s skin as he kissed it. “You should stay the night.” The brunette reached under the bed and produced a set of handcuffs and a gag. Jensen decided he didn’t much like his own apartment anyhow.


	38. Chapter 38

JD left for work early and Caitlin woke alone in her own bed. She reached for her notebook and was relieved to find no unexpected entry. Her attention caught suddenly on black ink on her hand. Her breath caught in her throat and she ran into the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror.

 

The words covered her arms and legs, her stomach and chest, in her own neat handwriting _‘Remember’_ and ‘ _J2_ ’. She took a shower and scrubbed until, flesh pink and raw, they were gone.

 

***

Jensen propped himself on one elbow as he watched Jared get dressed.

 

“I don’t want you to go.”

 

“It’s one day Jen. If I don’t go I can kiss goodbye to any chance I have of getting that contract and I am not going to do that.”

 

“It’s Baltimore.”

 

“Which isn’t here. Here is where you said your guy was, right?”

 

“Did you even listen to anything I explained to you?”

 

“Baltimore. I get it, but let’s get real Jensen. There is no way your guy could know about this trip in advance. You, me, Caitlin, Doc Carver and JD know about this trip. That’s it. Nobody shares information on bids, its bad business practice. The interview is real and you can check for yourself, use whatever police resources you need. A few hours at each airport, a couple of hours at site and a couple of hours shopping, a visit with Santa and his elves. That’s it. C’mon!”

 

“It feels wrong.”

 

Jared sat next to Jensen, cupped his chin in his hand, dipped in and kissed sweetly and light. “I know what you went through, I’m not saying I understand but I can’t imagine it is ever going to feel right. What I can’t do is stand around waiting for something that may never happen while my business gets ruined. I won’t do it. You're the one who reminded me to argue for what I want, remember? Now you want me to back down for you. No. It’s not going to happen.”

 

“How are you going to keep Caitlin safe?”

 

Jared huffed, “As I understand it, we’re in no more danger there than here. I'm not stopping with my life. I'll continue to work wherever I need to and I will shop if I need to shop. We’ll be fine, better even, because it’s not here. Caitlin will cope. She’s not how she used to be.”

 

“That’s another thing. She’s changed. She’s barely recognizable Jay.” Jensen picked at the soft linen sheets. “Do you find anything weird about that?”

 

Jared laughed, “Everything is a bit weird with Caitlin, but no, this is all good. Now, are you gonna to get out of bed and walk these dogs with me? Apparently I need a bodyguard and I’d rather like it to be your body.” He slipped a comfortable grey hoodie on.

 

“It’s cozy here. You could come back to bed with me.” Jensen fluttered his eyelashes and gave Jared a trademark dirty smirk.”

 

“Oh that’s it! You had your coffee, now it’s time to get the big guns out!” Jared opened the bedroom door and two bundles of furry energy leaped heavily on Jensen, tails wagging, licking and snuffling at his face.

 

“Nooo. Dude that is unfair. Misha was right. You are stubborn.”

 

He showered, dressed and checked the clip on his gun before joining Jared to walk his exuberant hounds. The sunrise was grey and damp, clouds rolling heavily on the horizon. It smelled of wet leaves and cold engines, rainwater oozed under every step, the ducks were hiding and Secret stayed deep in hibernation. Jensen walked, his side pressed to Jared’s, his hand entwined with the huge warm palm, but his attention caught on each stranger and every unexpected movement.

 

Jared squeezed his hand reassuringly and rambled on about weather, dog training and anything other than his trip or Jensen’s work. He paused to smile at strangers with a cheery, “Good Morning!” as if nothing had changed. Jensen wondered at the inner strength of this man who was able to continue spreading warmth to others, even when his own life was threatened. He squeezed him tightly and stopped there on the sidewalk, to draw him in for a very public kiss. Jared wrapped his arms around him, warm and protective and Jensen opened his eyes to look into the soft, flecked, hazel eyes. They drew apart with a faint hint of flush on their cheeks as a cyclist swerved past them, giving a loud wolf whistle.

 

 “You’re incredible,” murmured Jensen.

 

***

They ate breakfast at Harvelle's, their legs tangling under the table. Ellen served hot pancakes and perfect coffee and pretended to be shocked at Jensen's early morning appearance.

 

A car was sent to collect Jensen. He watched Jared lock the door after him. “Go!” mouthed Jared and blew him a kiss. He installed himself in front of his computer and scratched his head as he worked on his least favorite part of any project, the finances.

 

 

“Do you want me to take a look?” Jared jumped at the unexpected voice and looked up from his screen. Caitlin stood at the side of his desk, rubbing at Sadie’s ears.

 

“I didn’t hear you come in.”

 

“Sorry,” she looked guiltily at him. “I guess that was bad of me in the circumstances.”

 

“You take a look. I’m nipping over to Harvelle’s to get a caramel latte. You want anything?”

 

“Make it two.”

 

He came back ten minutes later, warming his hands on the black porcelain mugs. “Perks of being neighbors. We get real crockery for take-out. How did you do?”

 

“Travel costs?”

 

“Excuse me.”

 

“What’s the deal with Jensen then? It’s a heck of a distance to Baltimore Jay, and I don’t see any travel costs or accommodation figured-in. Are you planning on moving? Have you considered him at all or do you want him to be gone from your life by the time this starts?” Her gaze was boring into him. Fleetingly, her expression seemed to darken and Jared thought she was going to say something else, but she continued to look at him, brown eyes questioning.

 

“No! I just really want this. One way or another I’ll find a solution and I’ll absorb the costs. If not, call it a loss-leader. I intend to be with Jensen till I’m old and grey.”

 

“Wow. That’s intense. Okay. Good. Other than that you have two typos, I highlighted them.”

 

“So, you’ve done this before.”

 

“What?”

 

“Bids. You’re not even fazed Caitlin. You knew exactly what you were looking at. Try to remember something, anything. Bids, tenders, pricing.”

 

She sipped her coffee, her brows furrowed. Her head was starting to ache and there was a fog in front of her eyes.

_She is standing near a dilapidated building. Paint is peeling from the door around a ‘DANGER. NO ENTRY’ sign. Brick fragments mingle with wood debris on the ground, awash with mud. A bulldozer stands, carelessly abandoned, a few meters behind her. Rain drizzles, dripping from the peak of her hard hat and down her high visibility jacket. She is accompanied by a similarly dressed man. He is at least 6’5” and built like a brick outhouse. He advances into her personal space. Another man, smaller, with a weasely face and soft hands, observes them with an anxious look on his face. She stands straight and looks upward, straining her neck to look the large man in the eye. His voice is thick with threat and intention, “Just so we understand each other, there are a lot of ways for a person to come to harm if we don’t see eye to eye. I can be inventive with concrete.”_

_The smaller man is backing up, scared. She shoots him a reassuring smile and moves so far into the larger man’s space her knee brushes his leg. She speaks incredibly quietly, a soft hushed voice. “Is that so? You know I spend so much of my life investigating old buildings, I know some fantastic places to hide bodies.” She laughs and continues confidently as he glares down at her, “We’re going to get on just fine. We’re all professionals here aren’t we?” She feels on her belt for the sheathed knife she keeps there and clicks on the popper securing the leather holder. It is him that breaks eye contact and steps back first._

 

She woke up on the floor, Jared cradling her head, “You fainted.”

 

“I remembered something. I think I work with old buildings. I think I upset someone big, powerful. I threatened him. Why would I do that?” She pulled herself onto the couch and grabbed her coffee back from Jared. She struggled to keep her calm façade with Jared. The memory was filled with threat and foreboding and her own remembered behavior shocked her.

 

“Can you tell me about it? Do you want to ring the Doc?”

 

“Jay, I’m fine. It wasn‘t much. I didn‘t remember names or places.”

 

“We shouldn’t go tomorrow.”

 

“You will go Jay. So will I. Look, it’s good isn’t it. I’m fine, I’m not freaking out. I had to remember something sometime didn’t I? Maybe I wasn‘t all good. I‘m sort of prepared for that. I can‘t pretend that I‘m entirely proud of Jane but I can accept it and get over it.” She uncurled her legs on the couch and put the now empty cup on the floor. “If I don’t feel good, I won’t go, but _you_ are absolutely going. I’ve seen your drawings. That building needs to be built. I’ll write my diary and we’ll take a rain-check, yes?”

 

Jared nodded reluctantly. She brushed a hand over his cheek as she stood to leave, “I’ll be baking cookies.”

 

***

Jensen and Misha briefed five officers and set about creating a team area. There was a buzz of low voices and excitement. Dust clouds danced in pools of fluorescent light as little-used equipment was retrieved from locked cupboards. It is a simple fact that young cops will find the prospect of investigating a serial killer to be a thrilling one. Jensen could remember his own reaction; he wasn’t proud of it and couldn’t reconcile his old self with the man broken with the reality of the case.

 

When he first arrived local officers had thought him brusque and offhand but as time wore on most had come to realize that he was simply shy. They treated him with sensitivity and he retained the enclosed office in a quiet corner of the Precinct. Police and FBI made a joint decision that it was time to involve the media and press packages were hastily drawn up. Laing and Painter’s faces would be splashed over local and national news by 5 p.m. Chad led the main TV coverage and call-center from Texas.

 

Misha grabbed Jensen’s wheeled chair and pulled it toward him at about 2 p.m. “Jen, you haven’t stopped for a break today.”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“I’m going for coffee and you’re coming with me. You need to call Jared and warn him this will be on the news.”

 

That roused him. He reluctantly left his desk and headed to the mess room with Misha. The coffee tasted awful and Jensen felt a warm affection for Sarge as he realized that the coffee that kept him awake on a regular basis came from his own secret stash. He made a mental note to buy a decent coffee maker for the canteen area.

 

“Poetry,” said Misha unexpectedly.

 

Jensen shook his head, had he missed something?

 

“We need to talk about something completely unrelated, I vote for poetry. So, favorite poet, poem and reason?”

 

Jensen chuckled. “Siken,” he said and found himself expanding on the topic as the other detective interrogated him on the subject. They lost themselves for half an hour in conversation and quotations. Jensen found himself with even more respect for the strange man he worked with. He felt oddly refreshed as he returned to his work-space and dialed Jared.

 

***

Mid-afternoon Laing pulled his cap low on his head, shuffled through the minimal security checks with his fake ID and boarded a low budget domestic flight to Baltimore.

***

While baking the second batch of cookies Caitlin stopped to write in her notebook. Two words swirled in her mind, over and again. Roosevelt Asylum. She noticed with a jolt that she hadn’t only written in her book. On the back of her hand, in the same black pen were two characters, J2.

 

***

 

Mid-afternoon, Sarge presented Jensen with a decent cup of coffee and the news that forensics had taken the Painters’ van into the lab. Shortly after that Misha sat with a flourish on the chair opposite him and made faces until he Jensen’s attention. “So, it’s not Laing and I know you didn’t want to waste time on this, but good news is good news nonetheless.” He wore an impossibly white smile.

 

The green-eyed detective sat back, wearily wiping a hand over his face and through his hair. “Good news would be great right now.”

 

“The Riordan/Matthews aunt died in 2005. Evelyn Matthews inherited properties in Chicago which a realtor manages and rents for her. She inherited property in LA which she sold and she inherited a buttload of money. She inherited a house in Baltimore which is registered as her main residence in the US. She has dual nationality, with a residence in the UK. Oh and she also changed her name.”

 

“Again,” groaned Jensen.

 

“Get this though. She changed it to, wait for it, Katherine Elise Riordan.”

 

“She took her original name back?”

 

“The one name we weren’t looking for eh?”

 

“Where is she now?”

 

“I’m trying to verify it but there is a UK registered company which sounds interesting. Kate Riordan, Safety Solutions, offers services to the construction industry in both the UK and US. There’s even a website. It hasn’t been updated since January. My emails are bouncing back with the text that she is out of the office and will reply to messages as soon as is practicable.”

 

“If she was missing, surely her staff would have noticed by now.”

 

“As far as I can tell Kate Riordan, Safety Solutions, is a one woman enterprise.” He handed Jensen a slip of paper. “You can give the information to Jared and Caitlin if you think it helps.”

 

The Texan detective folded the paper and looked at it thoughtfully. “What if that’s why she did it?”

 

“Did what?”

 

“The cuts. All her family Misha, _all of them_ , died with them. She took her own name back, it was important to her. What if she did it to remember her name?”

 

“If she did, it didn’t work,” the blue-eyed man commented wryly, “and it doesn’t explain how she came to be here with the injuries she had.”

 

“Well. Right now, you’re doing better than me. I have nothing. No more leads. It’s a dead end.”

 

“You’re exhausted Jen. I’m surprised you can still see your screen. Go home, let the media do their part and come back refreshed in the morning. If it helps, Baltimore PD have promised they will take a special interest in Jared and Caitlin tomorrow.”

 

“Thanks,” he slipped his jacket on and let Sarge find a plain clothes officer to drive him to Madison House. He tried to ignore the fact that the place he associated with the word home was still Madison House. He had barely looked into his own apartment in days. He allowed himself a wry smile that Misha continued to refer to Madison House as Jensen’s home too. The man was a goddamn mind-reader. 


	39. Chapter 39

Jared wasn’t in his office so Jensen buzzed through to his apartment from the main door. His welcome sounded frosty. Jensen crossed the lobby, it smelt of polish and baking and he relished the smell, reminding him of his first encounter with the building. He was given a rude awakening from the good memory when Jared opened his door and let him in without a hint of affection. He strode ahead of Jensen down the hallway to the living room and stood, arms crossed, back to Jensen.

 

“The news showed pictures,” he said coldly. “Is that why you moved here? Was she always a suspect? Was it your job to get close to us?”

 

“Was who a suspect, Jay?”

 

“I saw her picture on your wall weeks ago. You said it was convenient to include her, to help us. God I’m an idiot. I believed you.”

 

“Jay. I really am out to lunch here. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Emma Painter. They showed a picture. You don’t want me going to Baltimore because you think Caitlin is Emma. Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize her?”

 

“Jay. We don’t have a picture of Emma Painter, nothing more than a fuzzy back shot. How can we make any presumptions? And no, I moved here because I wanted to get away from my past, not run slap bang into the middle of it again. The way I recall my first week here, if it was my job to get close to you, I’d be a piss poor detective and I’m really not that bad at my job.”

 

“Is that why you didn’t want me to go? You think she’s going to turn psycho on me?”

 

“Whoa, hey. No.” Jensen was becoming annoyed. “First, what picture Jay? It’s important.”

 

“I DVR’ed it.” He said flatly, but his arms uncrossed and he turned fractionally toward his boyfriend.

 

“Secondly, there was a moment where it crossed my mind, yes, but it’s not her. Forensics didn’t find any evidence for it and believe me they would have done.”

 

“But you checked and you never thought to tell me.”

 

“I couldn’t tell anyone. We didn’t want Laing knowing what we do or don’t have on him. Baby, please come here and look me in the eyes,” he begged the architect, eyes beseeching him.

 

Jared huffed and turned to him, “I want to believe you Jen, I do.”

 

Jensen crossed the room to him, took his hand and looked directly into his eyes, green on hazel. “I have never lied to you. I didn’t tell you everything about Emma because the likelihood of them being the same person was so small it fell into the realms of ridiculous. You didn’t need to worry about it. We’ve been following other avenues all this time and we may have found a lead on her today, a Kate Riordan, a construction safety consultant.”

 

Jared squeezed his hand. “Really?” he asked doubtfully, “It’s just the picture, it looks so much like her.” He thought back to Caitlin’s comments the same afternoon and he let out a sigh. “Safety? That would make so much sense, with all the things she knows and does.” He pulled Jensen into him and bent to kiss him tenderly on his lips. “I’m sorry. I guess I panicked.”

 

“It’s okay I’ve been panicking too, it must be contagious. Can you play the recording for me? It could be important.”

 

He drew a sharp breath as the news station showed the picture they had obtained from the training division of a food hygiene company where Emma had completed a short course. If the picture was genuine, the likeness was startling but he could discern minor discrepancies in skin tone, the shape of her eyes and lie of her ears. Of course photographs can be deceptive. He called the precinct briefly to ensure the picture was remanded from the news station with its source and authenticity confirmed. His phone rang almost as soon as he’d finished the call and he sighed. “Mama?” He rolled his eyes and took the call.

 

***

An hour later Jensen finally flipped the phone shut.

 

“They’re family. They’re worried about you. It‘s what they do.” Jared wrapped his arms around Jensen’s waist, resting his hands on the firm denim clad bum and leaned in to place gentle kisses along Jensen’s jaw and down his neck.

 

“Pa wouldn't speak to me.” Jensen nestled his head in his lover’s shoulder and closed his eyes, “You smell good.” he told him. “I still don’t want you to go,” he added quietly.

 

Jared laid a chaste kiss to the top of his mussed gold-brown hair, “I know, but I am going.”

 

“I know you are.” They stayed silent in the embrace for a long while before Jensen spoke again. “I was wondering if you would do something for me. A bit different and I don‘t want to you to say yes if you have any doubts.”

 

Jared traced a hand up his spine and caressed the back of his neck with soft fingers. “Is it very kinky?” He licked one earlobe as Jensen slipped a hand down the back of his jeans, running a hand over the firm, smooth skin there.

 

“I want you to make love to me. Want you in me Jay.”

 

He stopped for a moment, his heart leaping in his chest. It was something he’d thought about, wanted, almost from the start but felt unable to ask for, scared of a rebuttal. “I can do that. I’d love to do that. Yes,” he breathed heavily into Jensen's ear. “There is one condition.” He moved both his hands to undo the top buttons of Jensen’s shirt and his tongue laved a trail from the lobe of his ear to the V of his neck. “You have to let me take you out for dinner, no questions asked.”

 

“Mmm. That’s a condition? I can tell you’re playing real hard to get Jay.” He pulled Jared’s hips to him and snapped his own to grind against him.

 

“Unghh. No questions asked, remember.”

 

“Just one more. Do I get to have you as the starter?”

 

“Thought you’d never ask.” Jared finished unbuttoning Jensen’s shirt and they pulled it over his arms, struggling in their haste. He leaned his head down and sucked a nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, then made a hot wet trail to the other firm nub and flicked it with his tongue. He looked slyly upward into the lusty green eyes. “You taste so good.”

 

Jensen moaned and grabbed the waistband at the front of Jared’s jeans. “Bedroom. Now!”

 

“You’re a Toppy bottom!”

 

“Mmm, nngh.” He attached his lips to the expanse of flesh below Jared’s chin and sucked a livid red mark, by his Adam’s apple.

 

Jared responded by unbuckling his boyfriend’s belt, undoing his fly and pushing his jeans down, helping him out and leaving them trailing on the floor. Jensen returned the favor but his pink lips twisted into a grin as he let the pants stay around the larger man’s ankles and he taunted him by reaching inside his boxers and curling a hand around the his erect cock. Jared’s large hands were roaming over his bare flesh and tweaking at a nipple when Jensen felt a cold nose snuffle at his leg. “Oh that’s it Jay, we have to move this to the bedroom, your hounds are not invited into our sex life.” Harley whined and dropped to his haunches and Sadie growled playfully.

 

Jensen steadied himself on the wall as he made his way into the bedroom and Jared hopped in, kicking his pants off as he went. Harley tugged at them with his teeth until they dropped free on the floor. The architect slammed the door leaving his dogs in the hallway and turned to flash a wicked smile at his lover.

 

Jensen sat on the bed, hooded gaze on Jared stalking toward him. He slid up the crisp, cool comforter and lay back, resting his head on the pile of stacked pillows. He bent his knees and splayed them wide and licked his full lips to a shine. He let his hand drift into his boxers to palm against his full, throbbing erection.

 

Jared stripped himself of his boxers tantalizingly slowly, enjoying the low groans it elicited. He crawled up the bed, bent over Jensen, sucking on his toes, kissing his shins and his knees and laving up the inside of his thighs. His hair fell over his face and onto Jensen’s skin, soft tendrils of sensation following its path. He pulled at the underwear with teeth and fingers, giving a whoop of achievement as he tossed them aside. He continued his tortuous journey up Jensen’s body, mouthing at his balls, briefly sucking on the head of his shaft and tracing a wet ring around the tip with his tongue. His own cock ground against Jensen’s eager erection as he continued his journey, sliding up Jensen’s body. His hips pushed down and his mouth sucked raised purple marks on the firm flesh of his hips, chest and neck. He let himself enjoy every touch, every moan and squirm, it felt so right, so good, so  _pure_. Jared could let himself believe that this man was all he ever needed, forever.

 

Jensen’s hips snapped upwards matching movement and pace as he lost himself in delicious sensation. He grabbed at Jared’s hair and tangled his hands in it, pulling his face toward him to lock lips, pushing his tongue hard into his mouth, lips clashing furiously as they tongue-fucked. He heard the snick of the lube cap, the rustle of a packet and felt a chill slide against his hole. He shivered in anticipation as fingers rubbed slickly around his rim. He hadn’t done this for a long time, Jared was more than proportional,  _fucking large_ , and he knew it would be tight, possibly painful at first, but he wanted the fullness. He wanted to feel everything that belonging with this man meant. He mewled into Jared’s mouth and squirmed to impale himself on the fingers on his rim. His arms moved to encircle Jared and caressed his ass, kneading and massaging it. “Please,” he whined.

 

“Bossy bottom,” murmured Jared, nuzzling against his neck. “Will you let me look after you the way you care for me?” They both understood he wasn’t just referring to sex. Jensen stared up through long lashes, green-gold eyes lit with desire and nodded. “Yes,” was all he said and it was all that was needed.

 

The younger man took his time, prepared him slowly, careful not to drag nails over sensitive flesh, opening him gradually and pressing his mouth firmly over his lover’s lips when he threatened and pleaded for him to increase his pace.

 

Time seemed to stop for Jensen as he felt the blunt pressure against his hole and a sharp nip on his shoulder as Jared breeched him. It was slow and slick, a delicious burn, letting him adjust and then driving into him again. He was full and uncomfortable, his muscles clenching tight, but there was no pain, just an overwhelming desire to take it deeper, push against this man. He lifted his hips and ground upwards and Jared groaned, low and blissed out, “Jesus Jen!”

 

“Christ, please, please just get on with it,” Jensen begged. Jared gave a smirk of his own and drove deep into him, grazing his prostate, filling him balls deep. Jensen’s hands fell to his side, grabbing at the sheets as he shouted, “Jay, Jay, Jay.” Jensen pleaded and begged but Jared made love to him, deep, slow and sweet, driving him to scream and swear, simultaneous smiles and tears in his pleasure. Jared kissed his freckles and his nose, his neck and ears. The sweat ran down his abdomen and joined with the precome leaking from Jensen’s cock, stimulated by the easy friction against the firm body as they fucked.

 

Their breath grew ragged, movement uncoordinated and needy. Breath came in short pants as the brunette came first with one last deep thrust and a cry of exhilaration. He reached to take Jensen’s engorged member in his hand. His first touch was all it took to bring him off, milky fluid roping over his stomach, coating Jared’s fingers. He groaned Jensen’s name and was rewarded with a tired and garbled, “You’re awesome.”

 

They fell to the sheets together and Jared pulled out carefully, disposing of the protection and wiping them gently with a towel. Jensen’s eyes were closing, his breath even. His hand curled into the larger hand, fingers entwining as he pulled Jared close. They lay side by side, facing each other and Jared placed a soft kiss on Jensen’s forehead, “You complete me.”

 

Jensen blinked his eyes open for a brief moment and smiled contentedly at him.

 

***

 

They dozed until late evening. Jensen woke first and nipped at his boyfriend’s ear till a hand came up to swat at him. “I believe there was a promise of dinner.”

 

Jared yawned and stretched. “We should wash. You’ll need to dress warmly. I’ll lend you a thicker coat.”

 

“Coat?” Jensen was fully awake and sitting up now.

 

“I said no questions.”

 

“But...”

 

“No buts,” he kissed his cheek. "Bathroom!”

 

***

“We’re taking Harley and Sadie?” Jensen was incredulous.

 

“No questions.”

 

Jared haggled with a cab driver to take the dogs with them. Normally he would run but he didn’t want to tire Jensen. They got out at a dimly lit corner of the park and his babies strained at their leashes, whining in recognition. “It’s not far but they need their exercise. We’ll walk from here.” he said taking the detective’s hand.

 

Jensen released it and felt for his gun. Reassured he reached for the hand again and allowed himself to be guided by Jared. “Y’know. It’s not the classiest district,” he whispered.

 

“You’re safe with me,” he squeezed Jensen’s hand and they walked without a sliver of air between them.

 

Jensen saw the halo of foggy yellow light as they turned into the alley. The smell of onions and hotdogs wafted past him on curls of steam. There was a fast food stall surrounded by a gaggle of barely dressed, garishly painted girls who were giggling with a tall man in an apron, hair slicked back, mouth wide in a smile. “Oh man that smells good,” moaned Jensen.

 

“Best in the State. True fact,” said Jared pulling him further into the alley.

 

The crowd of girls parted to let them through. A slim blonde in hot-pants studied Jensen up and down. She shimmied close and batted her eyelashes suggestively. She blew smoke rings from a thin roll-up cigarette. “Oh, my! Boys! There could be a generous discount if you fancied a threesome.”

 

Jared gave a genuine deep laugh. “Oh, Molly. If only you were my type eh? We’re just here for the hotdogs.” He studied Jensen with a sideways glance and was relieved to see an expression of amusement rather than distaste.

 

“Buying him dinner Jay? This is a serious relationship.” The man in the apron tossed a towel over his shoulder and climbed into his van. He reached to the side of the refuse can and produced two misshapen wieners. He climbed back down his step and held one to Harley, the other to Sadie who took them delicately in their teeth, then wolfed them down in seconds. He washed his hands in the small sink at the back of his van and turned back to the couple. “What can I do for you Jay?”

 

“Two of the usual for me” he nudged Jensen with his elbow “What about you?”

 

“Just plain, with mustard and sauce and onions.”

 

“Two of that then, and two more, plain with sauce. Three coffees. Oh and fries.”

 

“Six hotdogs! Three coffees?” Jensen hissed in confusion.

 

“I said no questions. I’ve met your family and dined with them. You’ve met Megan on Skype, but tonight I get to take you out to dinner with the rest of my family.” They looked on as the vendor busied himself frying onions and grinding coffee. “This is Mick. He cooks the best street meat you will ever find and he stays here all night selling it to those of us that need it most. It’s a cheap date too.”

 

Mick extended a hand to Jensen. The grip was firm and warm. “Pleased to meet you. A friend of Jay’s is always a friend of mine.”

 

“Jensen,” he replied, “and we’re a bit more than friends.” He squeezed his boyfriend into a tight hug.

 

The resulting smile on Mick’s face was wide, warm and genuine. “Is that so? Well that gets you a discount any time.” He busied himself depositing the food into a sturdy paper bag and handed the coffee to Jared in a cardboard holder. “You enjoy your evening boys.”

 

“Aw, leaving so soon.” Molly stubbed her cigarette out on a wall, “Are you sure I can’t tempt you?”

 

“No!” chuckled Jared as he tugged his boyfriend away from the van. “You stay safe now girls.”

 

The dogs tugged on their leashes, leading the way in this familiar journey. “Now we go get the best seats.”

 

Jensen suppressed a shiver as they crossed the street and left the barely-lit sidewalk for the enveloping cloak of darkness within the park. Jared gave him a comforting squeeze. “Your eyes will adjust in a moment, it’s really not unsafe here, the mutts are good guard dogs in this situation too.” They were walking a gravel path, feet scrunching with the shifting stones below them. Jensen could just make out the solid shape of a bench to the side of the route and a lumpy shadow laid out on it. The lump moved and sat up as they got closer.

 

Jared disentangled himself from Jensen and moved ahead to greet the what was now coming into view as a grizzled old man in ragged clothes, a weather-beaten face and ripe odor. He scooted to the edge of the bench and patted the place beside him. Jensen sat, breathing shallowly but his nose was adjusting to the smell, it was a bit like walking into the men’s changing room at the gym, after a few minutes you don’t notice it.

 

Jared rustled in the paper bag and produced two hotdogs and handed them to the tramp. “Hal, I want you to meet my boyfriend. His name is Jensen. Jensen this is Hal. Times when I was small he was my Uncle Hal. Well I think you know about that.”

 

The old man’s glittering eyes considered the freckled detective for a long moment before he broke into a toothy smile. “Must be pretty darned special for you to bring him home to me, boy. He‘s mighty fine lookin’ too.” The old man took a large bite of hotdog and chewed enthusiastically with gums and what teeth remained. “So you won’t need me to look out for your dogs, no more.”

 

“No. I’m done with all that.” He gave Jensen his food and bit into his own.

 

“Oh. Umm. This is amazing.” The green-eyed man rolled his eyes and took another bite. “How does Mick not have his own diner?”

 

“Because he wants to be here, making sure street folk get food for a reasonable price. He’s a good guy. There’s a few cops on the night beat stop by, Misha included.”

 

“I hate him for not telling me about it.”

 

A small orange glow flared briefly in a space beyond the black shape of bushes and there was the indistinct murmur of voices. Jensen tensed, dropped his hotdog to his lap and reached for his gun. Jared stilled his arm. “Hey. It’s alright. It’s a meeting place. For people.” He dropped his head and couldn’t look his lover in the eye. “People like me.” His voice was thick with shame. “I thought you should know everything about me. Even this.”

 

“Dang boy!” Hal swore, looking between them, concern in his eyes. Harley shifted beneath them and pushed his nose onto his master’s lap, as if he sensed the sadness.

 

“I already knew Jay. Not the specifics but Milligan’s was a good pointer. Do you honestly think it matters to me?” He cupped the chiseled jaw and rubbed his thumb along his cheek. “You want confessions? What do you think I was doing in Milligan’s? It wasn’t a boyfriend I was meeting.”

 

Understanding bloomed in the hazel eyes, “Why? You could have anyone you want?”

 

“I didn’t have the one person I really needed.” He leaned in and brushed his lips lightly against the brunette’s in a faint delicate kiss. “That is you Jay.” They embraced for a deeper kiss, interrupted by a low cough from Hal and by Sadie making an audacious raid on the food in Jensen’s lap. He let Sadie finish her spoils and unfurled the paper bag to grab the rest of his meal.

 

They stayed and chatted. Hal dragged up several embarrassing incidents from Jared’s childhood and span tales of them hoodwinking child services that left their cheeks aching from laughter. Jensen saw Jared relaxed and sparkling with fun. He looked on with an outsider’s eyes, awed at the revelation, that despite the hardships these two had endured, they could nevertheless reminisce with such affection and joy.

 

They left Hal there, unrolling his sleeping bag, laying himself down on the unforgiving wood. Jensen pretended not to notice as the architect tucked a roll of money into the dilapidated satchel that Hal rested his head on. “We should find him something, a job and somewhere to stay,” Jensen said as they walked away.

 

His boyfriend sighed, “If that's what he wanted, it would be easy. He doesn’t like being hemmed in. This is where he’s happy, under the stars, away from people. He’s content and no-one much bothers him. There’s a shelter takes him in when the nights are frosty but he prefers to be outside. It‘s not our place to force society on him.” The detective nodded, he’d seen others in his time, that couldn’t resist the lure of street life. It was never comfortable to accept, but ultimately it was their own choice.

 

They managed to stroll several blocks until the mutts were tired and Jared could see Jensen leaning heavily on his cane. “We should get a cab now.” There was another tousle with the taxi driver over a reasonable fare for his babies and then they were pressed up against each other on the warm vinyl seat of a car. “My flight is at 6:00 so I’ll drop you home.”

 

“I’ve got the gun. We’ll take you home first Baby.”

 

“ ’K. My interview is at 10:00, it’ll probably take about 30 minutes. The rest of the day you can reach me on my mobile. I’m taking the pay-as-you-go phone too, as a back up. It’ll be under my jacket. I promise I will keep in touch. Stop worrying.” He brushed his hand lightly over Jensen’s face. “I love you, Jen.”

 

“Love you, Baby.”

 

The driver kept the meter running and tactfully studied a newspaper as the couple kissed goodnight. Jensen made the man wait until Jared signaled okay from his apartment window.

 

He let himself into his own apartment and flopped on his couch. The space felt cold and impersonal. He thought of the still-empty second floor apartment at Madison House and wondered if he’d ever bother to redesign this one. His phone beeped with a received text and he checked it eagerly, but it was from Misha. There was a short message with a picture of them at the food stand. “What the hell were you two thinking?” He clapped his hand to his head, they’d completely forgotten about their police tail. He hoped the vigilant officer had at least got a hotdog out of the deal.


	40. Chapter 40

_The circular saw whines and grates and a few inches of metal fall to the ground as she enters the old basement cell. She shades her eyes from the brightness of the mobile spotlight. “I thought you’d just dig it out of the wall.” She touches the wall and moldy brick dust showers to the floor._

_“Ah. Didn‘t think of that,” the workman answers, shifting on his feet._

_She reaches to touch his work, it’s still warm and the edge is jagged and wicked sharp but the old pipe hanger is barely visible, only protruding about an inch from the wall and she sighs. “It’ll do. I’ve got bigger battles to fight. If you get a moment, do us a favor and come back to chip it out.”_

_The scene shifts and blue stretches, all around, for eternity. There is no visible means of support but she stands nevertheless. She’s watching Emma pace back and forth against the blue, blue background._

_“You lied,” complains Caitlin._

_“She doesn’t know I’m here. She hasn’t got a clue.”_

_“You can’t go through with it, Jay loves him.”_

_“It’s justice.”_

_“It’s revenge.”_

_“You have no right to judge me.”_

_“I’m you. I’ve given us my memories. You must see we can’t do it.”_

_“I can. You’re not real.” She flicks her wrist and Caitlin is no longer there. Emma paces back and forth against the blue, blue background._

 

Caitlin startled in her sleep, her breath coming in short pants. JD pulled her close and placed a steadying hand over her heart. She curled close into him and sighed as she returned to a deep slumber.

 

They woke again at 4;00 and Caitlin dressed and grabbed her things. On the inside of her right wrist J2 was written in permanent marker, repeating over on the palm of her hand. She puzzled briefly but Jared was already banging at the door and the cab was waiting. JD pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her. “Stay safe. Keep in touch.”

 

“I will,” she promised

 

***

Jensen slept fitfully. His sheets tangled and he got out of bed to smooth them down and make a hot chocolate. He wanted a stiffer drink, the need never seemed to leave him, but he sipped the chocolate, taking what comfort he could from it. At 4:30 a.m. he got a text from Jared. _xx In cab, on way to airport xx Get some sleep xx_ It made him smile that Jay knew him so well. He left the text displayed and curled back under the covers with it in his hand. He drowsed into a half sleep, neither fully comatose or awake, his mind relaxed and vacant. That’s when the voices came unbidden, a dream without pictures but just as vivid.

 

Misha’s voice, “ _Kate Riordan_... _construction safety…residence in Baltimore….not updated since January.”_

Jared _, “…televisions scare her…she remembers a construction site…rain…there’s a band for her wrist...”_

 

The Player, _“three cards for this…have you ever killed?…I never pegged ya for a yellow belly but ya choose the bitch evereh time and she protects you evereh time…she’s gonna be pissed when I kill ya.”_

 

Baltimore PD, “ _Jake was a scaffolder…construction site in the city…the van is in your pound.”_

 

Caitlin, “ _You were on TV…You make me so angry, so confused, as if you can’t be real. I saw you in my dreams.”_

 

Flashes of images now; _The damn laptop, the web cam, the sound and smell of gunshot. Darkness falling, then coming-to, numb and alone, by his dying husband, in a room devoid of any electrical equipment. A drawing of a basement, a room with no door._

 

 Caitlin, _“Did I die?……You died and I was still furious with you.”_

 

Realization was in waking, C _aitlin, Caitie, KATE, the injuries, the fragmented memories._ Somehow the Painters messed up. He wasn’t the only survivor. Laing hadn’t come for Jared or Jensen. Laing had come for Kate.

 

jensen pushed himself out of bed with an urgency. He logged into his laptop with shaking hands, drumming against the surface as he waited for remote access to his system. The missing persons database was painfully slow and he forced himself to steady his breathing as he typed the name Katherine Elise Riordan. Baltimore. He was sure he had checked all disappearances in Baltimore. It was the first part of the investigation, after he took the dusty side office in the downtown police station. He knew he hadn’t had a hit on her name, but it didn’t make sense. She had to be missing.

 

The database scrolled for what seemed forever, but it could only have been a matter of moments. There was an electronic beep and the screen was filled with information. He skimmed it for the basics.

 

MISSING. Katherine Elise Riordan. Date and place of disappearance unknown. No known contact since January 2010. Missing person report formally filed 20th November 2010 after a short investigation following a fire at her residence.

 

It had taken almost 10 months for anyone to notice she was gone. Jensen wondered sadly how that could happen to anyone.

 

There was a photograph of her, presumably rescued following the fire, Caitlin, unscarred and smiling at the camera, a dead ringer for Emma Painter. He took the case number and programmed contact details for the officer in charge into his mobile. He printed both photographs and slipped them into his battered document bag. He flipped his mobile open and called Jared. “C’mon, c’mon,” It clicked to voicemail. He tried the pay-as-you-go. Same deal. He checked the time. 6:10. They were in the air. Phones switched off. He texted. _xx*urgent* Call as soon as you’re landed xx_

 

He had a really bad feeling about this. He changed tabs on the laptop and fumbled through his wallet for a credit card. It took him seconds to make a decision and act on it. He threw clothes on. His socks were mismatched and inside out but he didn’t correct it. Jeans, a v-neck, a hoodie, boots, teeth brushed, hair scraped with his hand, ID, case file, his mobile, mace, gun and clip. He dialed Misha’s number then halted. Misha would talk him out of this. Chad he similarly dismissed. He’d call when he got into Baltimore.

 

The cab driver got an extra hundred for breaking the speed limit after Jensen produced his police badge. Airport staff co-operated in stowing his weapons safely for the flight and he thanked his stars for booking first class and having proof of his affiliation with FBI. The stewards were extra attentive to him and several gave him admiring glances. For once he didn’t have the heart to flirt with them. He allowed himself a slightly smug moment as he noted there were no lines for first class. He may have the wealth to travel that way but he never considered it worthwhile. Standard got you there and back adequately and if you were going to crash you all went down together. This time first class was all they had and he wasn’t prepared to wait on a standard seat being available.

 

If Laing or Painter were trying to cover evidence they weren’t going to bother with the intricacies of kidnap and wouldn’t hesitate to go through Jared to dispose of Kate. The trip to Baltimore could be seen as a signal that she was getting her memory back. They didn’t need to get close up to kill.

 

He boarded his flight and was in the air at half past seven. It only occurred to him then that he would be in the air when Jared got his text. He worried at his lip hoping Jared would have the sense to ring Misha. If he hadn’t already found the email with the missing persons data, he was going to see it very soon, likely guess why Jensen wasn't in his office and then he was going to bombard him with extremely pissed off texts about irresponsible behavior. Chad’s own angry calls would follow soon after. He flipped his seat back and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep while stewards poured alcohol for the passengers around him. He needed to be sharp.

 

***

Caitlin cleared the airport lines and security checks with consummate ease. She was quiet but walked with an air of confidence and answered necessary questions. Jensen was right, thought Jared, she was a changed person. He wondered if the journey would answer any of the questions they had about her. He offered a short prayer and touched the cabin ceiling for luck just before take off.

 

“Jay, are you okay?” Caitlin asked.

 

Great! It was him that supposed to be looking after her. “Not keen on flying,” he said through gritted teeth. She patted his hand, “It’s just a giant bus, except generally buses have a poorer safety record. How about you tell me about your proposal, distract yourself and get a run-through?”

 

She was sweet and attentive and the flight passed quickly with several elderly ladies clucking over what a nice couple they made. They didn’t correct them but giggled quietly and played up to the parts, calling each other darling. When Jared went to use the bathroom, Caitlin followed and hid in first class for a few minutes so that they came back to their seats together. The old ladies nudged each other and gossiped between themselves. Jared leaned to speak in her ear, “You shameless hussy,” he joked.

 

The landing was uneventful and Jared switched on his mobile phone as they strode through BWI airport. _xx*urgent* Call as soon as you’ve landed.xx_ He stopped by a pillar and Caitlin came to a halt, watching him anxiously. “Something’s wrong,” he said. Her eyes widened and he regretted the statement immediately. It was easy to forget how fragile she could still be. “I’m sure it’s just something minor, Jensen’s going to be paranoid all day.” He started to move through the terminal toward the gates, mobile to his ear.

 

“I’ll go on and hail a cab.”

 

“No. Stay close.”

 

She rolled her eyes, “It’s an airport, there’s security everywhere.” He reluctantly agreed. “Stay in sight of me.”

 

“Would you like to get me toddler reins too?” She scowled.

 

When he got no answer he called Jensen’s extension at the Precinct. No answer. He rang Misha’s mobile and left a message.

 

Misha called back when they were settled in the cab on the way to Johns Hopkins. He sounded agitated and angry, “Is Jensen with you Jared?”

 

“No. He left a message though,” he repeated it for the detective.

 

“I think he’s on his way to Baltimore to join you, which is possibly the stupidest thing he’s ever done.”

 

“Why?”

 

“It’s to do with Caitlin. Is she with you?”

 

“Yeah, she can hear.” He switched to speaker mode.

 

There was a pause while Misha considered how much he should let Caitlin know. Caitlin frowned at the inanimate object and spoke loudly. “I’m not going to freak out Misha, so I swear if you don’t tell us, I will turn evil psycho killer on your ass.”

 

“We think we worked out your identity. If so, you’re a Baltimore native. It’s probable you’ll recognize stuff and it may get rough.”

 

“And? What are you not saying Misha?”

 

“And there’s a possibility that the person who hurt you may still be gunning for you. You should take extra care.”

 

“We were already taking extra care Misha. So why is Jen is on his way to Baltimore?”

 

“Honestly? I have no idea. Maybe because he’s an over-protective paranoid bastard and because we tailed him to the airport and the airhead tailing him didn’t think to actually stop him.”

 

Caitlin made a grab for the phone and pressed it to her ear. She spoke with a tremble in her voice, “Misha, What’s my name?”

 

“It’s not confirmed Caitie.”

 

“I promise I won’t sue if you’re wrong, but you’re not wrong are you? Jensen is pretty damn sure if he’s on that flight. What’s my name Detective Collins?” Her voice was cold steel even as her hands still trembled.

 

“You’re Katherine Elise Riordan, you’re 35, unmarried and a professional. You have dual nationality and homes in the UK and the US. It’s all I can give you at the moment Kate.”

 

“Who is gunning for me?”

 

“I can’t tell you that right now.”

 

“But you know?”

 

“Not for sure, but you should still be alert for Laing and Painter. Look, I’ve got to go, there’s messages stacking up for me. We’ll speak later. Take care and give Jensen a kick up the ass when you see him.”

 

Jared closed the phone. He placed his arm around Caitlin and hugged her as a tear ran down her cheek. “I’m Kate Riordan,” she said to him in a dazed voice.

 

“I’m very pleased know you Kate,” responded Jared and squeezed her tight. 


	41. Chapter 41

It was 10:00 when Jensen walked through the concourse at BWI. He retrieved his weapons and checked his phone. He had a short text _xx spoke to Misha. Speak soon? All's well. Kate says hi xx_. He noted the use of the K in Kate and knew it was deliberate. They had told Kate and she hadn’t freaked out. He hailed a cab and asked to go to Johns Hopkins Hospital. They turned onto a main street in disarray, traffic spewed fumes and stretched ahead in a slow moving crocodile. The driver swore under his breath. “If you’re prepared to take a longer route I can get us out of here. It’s a bit unconventional.”

 

“Yes, yes, do it. Oh wait, it doesn’t actually go off-road or the wrong way down one way streets does it?”

 

He raised a laugh from the driver as he glanced at him in the mirror. “No. It takes us out of the area and back in on the other side.”

 

“In that case just go for it.” They turned away from the traffic congestion and into free flowing traffic.

 

***

 

Caitlin straightened Jared’s jacket and smoothed his tie. She purchased a large coffee and sat with her puzzle book with her back to the wall, in a nook of the hospital café. “Knock ‘em dead, because your design is awesome.”

 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Any worries, buzz the pay-as-you-go twice. It’s on vibrate and it’s in my pants pocket so it’s going to get my attention.”

 

She grinned at him, “If I buzz you six or seven times I’m just teasing you.”

 

He wagged a finger, “Don’t you dare!”

 

Caitlin was deep in concentration when the man sat beside her. She looked up apologetically, “Sorry, it’s taken, I’m waiting on a friend.” He didn’t move and her head started to pound. she found herself reaching for her belt but there was no weapon there. _What made her think there would be?_ He placed a yellow stained hand on her arm and she wondered why she wasn’t screaming. She put her feet to the floor but she didn’t run.

 

“Hey there Emma. I brought ya summat.” He surreptitiously palmed a thin, smooth object into her hand. She fingered the leather, felt the fastener and tested her grip on the handle. She popped the fastener and withdrew the blade from the leather, keeping it hidden from view, under the table. It was smooth and cool, a good weight and easy to grip in her small hand.

 

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed. She fastened the holder on her belt and slipped the blade in. She drew her hoodie over it and zipped it up. “Thanks”

 

“You was best of ‘em all Emma.”

 

“I said he’d come. Never figured it’d be this soon. He’s already on his way.” Emma’s smile was cold and dark. Laing slipped away and Emma continued sipping her coffee, waiting on Jared’s return.

 

_Kate drifts in the blue, she watches Emma from afar. Caitlin is gone, maybe permanently this time. She thinks Emma is inept and clueless, but they both appreciate a well made knife._

 

***

 

Jensen watched the cityscape pass by. He fidgeted with his phone. It was an exercise in self restraint to not ring his boyfriend incessantly. They moved slowly toward a junction, matching time with lanes of growling vehicles on either side spewing carbon monoxide into the atmosphere. His eyes rested on a sign as they stopped for a red light once more.

 

NEWLY REFURBISHED. HIGH CLASS OFFICE SPACE FOR LEASE.

 

The building was large and freshly painted. New windows gleamed in six stories of a relatively modern building. There was a label to the side of the main entrance, “Site Office.” Jensen rubbed his eyes and looked again. The traffic lights turned green and they started to move. “STOP!”

 

“What?”

 

They continued moving and Jensen tugged at the door. The driver hit the brakes and Jensen was thrown forward as his belongings slid on the floor.

 

“Are you nuts? You said Johns Hopkins.”

 

A cacophony of horns blared behind them.

 

“I need to get out here. He threw a hundred dollar bill at him. “Keep the change.” The driver stared in disbelief and turned it in his hand looking for signs of forgery. “It’s real. Just let me out here.” He flashed his badge at him and the door was released. He dodged traffic, cane in one hand, belongings in the other. There was the squeal of brakes and several motorists voiced their low opinion of him but he made it to the curb and crossed the sidewalk to the newly refurbished building. He dug into his case for a file and drew out a piece of paper. He compared the sketch elevation to the building in front of him. “Snap! We have a match.” he said.

 

***

 

Jared was on a high when he returned to collect _Kate_ , he had to keep reminding himself that she had a name now. She was staring aimlessly at a page and he had to reach and touch her shoulder to rouse her. “You okay?”

 

She shook herself, yawned and rubbed her eyes, “Early morning! Think I dropped off for a while there.” She took a moment to look at his face, he was flushed and his hazel eyes glinted. She squealed and hugged him. “It went well,” she said. “I can tell it went well.”

 

“It went well,” He span her around and kissed her on her cheek. “Thanks for believing in me.”

 

“I did it for the shopping,” she said playfully, “Now, show me the way to the mall. I need to spend money and I have a date with some elves.”

 

“I’m ahead of you,” he teased holding up a small bag. “There was a little gift shop, so I have my first present for Jensen.”

 

“You big girl! Lets go then!”

 

***

Jensen’s phone rang. He fumbled hurriedly in his pocket and pressed it to his ear. “Jay?” His voice cracked a little as he spoke.

 

“Jen. I hear you couldn’t resist the shopping in Baltimore.”

 

“Is Misha very pissed at me.”

 

Jared laughed, “I didn’t ask, but I sense, yes, big-time.”

 

“I was going to meet you at the hospital but I’m guessing you’re all done there. How did it go?”

 

“It was good. We have shopping to do. Caitie,” he corrected himself, “Kate has the intention of spending a lot of money, the plane may not get off the ground on the way home.”

 

There were whispers in the background as Kate grabbed the phone. She sounded carefree and full of fun. “I’m going to buy candy for Jared so he can get all hyped up and bug you.” Her voice dropped a little and became serious and emotional. “Jensen, Misha told us what you found. I can’t say how much it means to me. Thank you. I have a name and since I apparently have two houses I’m going to be an optimist and spend money that I might have. If I don’t, I will be paying Jared back forever.”

 

“You’re welcome Kate. We’ll work it all out after Thanksgiving right? Let me speak to Jay again so I can find you to help carry the bags.”

 

Jared took the phone from Kate and stepped away, “Jen. You’re not sounding so good.”

 

“Watch yourselves closely Jay. I didn’t want to text but I don’t think Laing was looking for me or you at Glenview. I think he was looking for Kate.” He lowered his voice. “Keep to the malls, stay in well populated spaces. Don’t let her go anywhere on her own. I’m gonna be a while, I have something to do. When you reach a mall text me with the details and I’ll come and join you. Do you get all that?”

 

“I got it all,” he spoke softly, “We’re going to be careful but promise you will be too. I love you Jensen Ackles, I’m not about to lose you. Okay. Now breathe.”

 

Jensen hadn’t realized he was holding his breath. He let it out in a sigh. “See you soon Baby.”

 

***

 

The room labeled Site Manager was empty. Jensen followed the noise of chatter and pushed the door into a room where a number of men in dusty work boots and heavy jeans, sat, feet on tables coffee mugs in their hands. Break time. “I wanted to speak to the site manager,” he said.

 

“Sales office is back the other way,” a tall, bald man commented helpfully.

 

“No, I wanted to speak to the builders’ manager,” Jensen got his badge out.

 

The tall man looked at it, “You’re a long way from Texas.”

 

“I know. There’s no obligation. I just wondered if you could help.” They looked like decent guys so he decided to try for their sympathy. He gauged Tall Man as either the manager or foreman. “It’s just I saw the building and I have this lady who is ill, she’s lost her memory. She drew this,” he placed the drawing on the table.

 

“Good drawing. It’s us.” The men who couldn’t lean over to look, stood up and came over. There were raised eyebrows, so he continued. He placed the picture of Caitlin on top of it. “Does anyone recognize her?”

 

Two answered at once, Tall Man and a round young man with a mop of curly hair.

 

“It’s the sandwich lady.”

 

“It’s Kate Riordan.”

 

They looked at each other then back at the picture. They tipped their heads studying it again. “Damn. We always did say if they dressed alike we wouldn’t be able to tell them apart. So go on, which one is it?” the round man grinned at him, waiting for an answer.

 

The other tradesmen looked askance at the Tall Man. One quipped, “You had hot chicks working here?”

 

He shrugged at them, “It was during the demolition phase. You wouldn‘t have liked her, she would have made you work.” They laughed at what was clearly an in-joke.

 

“Like I say. She’s lost her memory. Can I speak to you some more in private? I appreciate that time is money and all that, but it’s possible she’s in danger and it is very important. I can come back with Baltimore PD but that’s even more of an upheavel for you.”

 

Tall Man got up and indicated the other man to come with them, “If Kate’s in trouble there’s not a guy she’s worked with who would refuse to help.”

 

“She’s popular?”

 

“She’s golden. Got us out of some fixes. An absolute bitch to work with on occasion, but the devil of it is, she’s always right. She’s scary in a good way.” He looked at the drawing again, “It looks like one of her sketches. Is she okay, will she recover?”

 

“She’s getting better all the time.” They were taken into the Site Manager’s office and he took the proffered seat.

 

“So what do you need to know?”

 

“When did you see her last?”

 

He stared into space calculating, “Just less than a year, like I say, she did the demolition phase. She specializes in the removal of hazardous materials so it’s rare to see her once demolition is complete. We had some nasty stuff, heavy metals and asbestos which she project managed. She would have finished in late December or January. I can get the office to pull the records if you like.”

 

“Thanks, I might ask at a later stage. Tell me, does the sandwich lady still visit, the one who looks like her?”

 

He scrunched his nose in thought. “No, that firm stopped coming. Actually it was about the same time, maybe a couple of weeks later. There were some comments because we lost the two pieces of eye candy at the same time.” He waved his hands in defense, “Sexist but true.”

 

He pressed on, “Did you use scaffolders on the demolition phase?”

 

“Yeah. She had a team working with her. They moved on before her,” he tapped his fingers on the desk, “actually there was a hullaballoo about that too. Police came looking for their foreman.”

 

The round guy interjected, excited to have something to add, “Jake, he just disappeared one day from the site across town. Went out for lunch, never came back. They were asking to speak to Kate but when she left here she just had a few days left on the House of Broken Souls and then a contract in the UK. She works on refits of ships, submarines, that sort of thing.”

 

The Tall Man continued, “They may have got in touch, but if she’s on an operational ship she’ll be out of contact for months at a time.”

 

“What’s the House of Broken Souls?”

 

“It was the old Roosevelt Asylum, it was empty for years, spooky as hell. The local kids gave it the nickname and it kinda stuck. It’s gone now, they took it down to the ground. They had issues with the basement, most of that’s probably still there, freaking out local teenagers.”

 

“Did Jake do something to her?” the round man shifted uneasily.

 

“Why do you ask that?”

 

“I mean it’s not that he was ever nasty to her, just the opposite. He had a thing for her. Actually her and the sandwich lady, must have been a brunettes thing, but with Kate, he thought she was kinda badass.”

 

Jensen’s phone beeped twice in quick succession, he looked down at the screen. “I’m just stepping out to take this. Will you be able to continue after?” Both men nodded.

 

He leaned on a wall and kicked a pattern in the floor dust as he opened a text from Jared. It was a photograph of the inside of a mall. There was a cute scene of Santa’s Cottage, surrounded by dancing elves. _xxElves dude. Elvesxx_  with a mall name and street. He smiled. It was typical of Jared. His fingers tapped a reply. _xx Santa better have a good present for me xx I’ll be about an hour xx_

 

The next message was from Chad.

_Xx Prelim Lab results. call me URGENTLY, AWAY FROM KATE. Drop EVERYTHING xx_

 

Chad NEVER used caps. Jensen ignored the ass-kicking he was about to receive and dialed.

 

“Where the hell are you Jenny? Forget that, I can guess. You better not be stepping on Baltimore PD’s toes. You’re sure as hell not there for the shopping. You hate shopping. Are you trying to get yourself killed? You don’t just take off like that on new evidence.”

 

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this Chad. I’m worried about Kate.”

 

“You better start worrying about Jared and yourself. Where is Kate now?”

 

“She’s with Jared. He gave the name of the mall. What did forensics find?”

 

“I’m getting the PD there now. Ring him and tell him to get her somewhere quiet, away from the crowd. We’ll use the mall cams to locate them. He has to stand down and let them take her.”

 

“Chad? The forensics? He was sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, head cradled in his hand. He didn’t understand what was going on but Chad’s instructions scared him.”

 

“The Painters’ van is covered in blood. I mean _covered_ Jen. We’ve identified blood from James Painter, blood that matches the DNA profile of the second perpetrator in the Fay crime-scene, blood from Jake Abel and Kate‘s blood too. There are fingerprints from James and our accomplice, but only one set of fingerprints is made with the blood of all those people. They’re Kate’s Jen.”

_Three cards for this…_

 

Jensen’s stomach roiled. He dropped the phone. He couldn’t move. He didn’t know how long he sat tracing in the dust with his finger. How could he have misjudged things so badly again?

 

“Jen, Jenny, Jensen!” Chad was shouting.

 

“Yeah. Okay. You go do that.”

 

“Jensen. Don’t you dare go running off to the mall. Give me your location and when it’s over we’ll get a car to you. Sit tight and let Baltimore PD do this.”

 

“Um, I’m not sure where I am. I’ll get back to you on that. I’ll call Jared now.” Jared’s phone rang unanswered. He tried again. No answer. Pay-as-you-go he thought and dialed, “This phone is switched off.” _He wouldn’t switch it off. Not today._

 

He pushed himself up and somehow stumbled into the site manager’s office. The man hurried around his desk to grab him and guide him to a chair. “You’re white as a sheet, man. Take it easy.” He turned to the round man, “Go get some water.”

 

Color returned to him gradually. His phone rang again, “Chad?”

 

“Jen, are you sure it’s that mall? We have every cam in view, they’re not there.”

 

“I haven’t spoken to him yet, his phone is off. He’ll be in the crowd. They’ll be in the crowd.” He repeated it, willing it to be true, it had to be, he had the picture.

 

“Hang on, he was by the dancing elves. He took a photo.” He scrolled the picture into view and looked affectionately at the message. He forwarded it to Chad and continued to stare. Mechanical puppet elves danced around a polystyrene- decked shed, surrounded by fake Christmas trees and plastic snow. Shoppers milled about in the background. Lights blurred around lavishly decked shop fronts. There was one undecorated unit, a somberly clad bank with an old fashioned clock display. He squinted at the clock, he could just make out the angle of its hands. According to the clock, the photograph had been taken at 9:00.

 

They weren’t there. They’d never been there. The world stopped turning for Jensen.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When I first dreamed up this story it was from a mixture of two prompts which twisted into one story - the first I shared at the beginning (Queensryche's Dirty Lil Secret) but the one that started it all, was from another of my favorite shows and set me thinking ...what if? ...
> 
> Obviously I didn't share before now, because it's kind of a spoiler ...
> 
> “He looked right into the face of it, made to stare at the darkness, kind of darkness you can’t even imagine. Blacker than the space we move through. They made him watch. He probably tried to turn away but they wouldn't let him. You call him a survivor. He’s not. A man goes up against that kind of will, the only way to deal with it, I suspect, is to become it.” ~ Capt. Mal Reynolds, Firefly - 1.03, Bushwhacked (about the crazed survivor of a particularly gruesome massacre).
> 
> If you've never watched Firefly ~ What are you doing with your life?

 

Kate and Jared had followed the exit signs through the bright, wide hospital corridors and Jared had started to loosen his tie.

 

“Oh no! I need to send a pic of you, all smart, to Jensen. Then you can take the tie off. Hand me your phone.”

 

Kate backed up and fiddled with it, seemingly pressing keys at random. Jared reached to show her but she shooed him back, “uh-uh I got it. Say cheese!” He posed dramatically and she took several pictures. “I’ll sort and send them in the cab,” she said.

 

There was one cab as they approached the taxi stand. A young mother with a stroller struggled with a toddler behind them. Kate scanned the oncoming road with increasing agitation but Jared didn’t notice, he was too busy playing peek-a-boo with the lively child. Another cab was winding slowly toward the taxi stand and she relaxed as the registration number came into view. “We should let them go to the front of the line,” she whispered to Jared.

 

“What? Oh yeah, good idea.” They stepped aside graciously and the family gratefully took their place.

 

The next cab pulled in and they bundled into it. Kate spilled the contents of her bag in the footwell as soon as they sat down. The driver, in low baseball cap and shades, tutted and moved out onto the road anyway. Jared bent over to help her pick up the assortment of pens, coins, tissues and documents.

 

“Where to?” the driver had asked as they were still gathering her belongings. Kate reached and took Jared’s carelessly scrunched coat from his lap, shook it and placed it beside her, away from the architect.

 

“Where’s the most festive shopping mall?” asked Jared.

 

“With elves,” added Kate.

 

The driver gave a twisted smirk into the mirror and gave a name.

 

“There!” they called out simultaneously.

 

The contents of her bag retrieved, Kate resumed fiddling with Jared’s phone. “Jay, give me the pay-as-you-go. It’s much simpler.”

 

He had reached into his pants pocket and handed it to her. She took the memory card out of it and tried to place it in the other but it didn’t fit. She subtly loosened it’s battery and put the pay-as-you-go on Jared’s jacket. “Oh I’ll have to use the other one.” She slipped a card back into Jared’s phone. There was a satisfying beep and she gave an excited clap. “Just waiting for the confirmation,” she said.

 

Emma glanced smugly at the oblivious man beside her, the jacket with the mace in its pocket and the phones by her lap. She palmed the original memory card into her pocket. _Too easy_ she thought.

 

The street narrowed and buildings thinned. There were no other vehicles on the road and trees overhung it in clusters. The highway was uneven, adding an extra hum to the noise of the engine. “Are you sure this is the right way?” Jared asked doubtfully, leaning forward to speak to the driver.

 

“It’s one them aht o’ town jobs,” the driver tapped gnarled yellow-tipped fingers on the wheel.

 

Jared took time to look at him properly and recoiled, his face turning ashen, “You!”

 

The cab screeched and fishtailed onto the verge as the brakes were applied too generously. The wheels kicked up a spray of mud which spattered onto the window glass as the car slid towards a stand of trees. It came to a stop inches away from a sturdy trunk.

 

Jared saw Kate freeze, her mouth gaping in terror. He reined in his fear and struggled with the handle of his door but the child locks were on. He fumbled for his phone but he didn’t have it. “Caitlin, dial 911 now. Kate!” She didn’t respond.

 

Laing removed his shades and turned in his seat, Jared snarled his lips and drew back his right hand in a fist, he nudged Kate with his left, trying to rouse her into action. He saw the gun in Laing's hand as he started to swing and halted his hand in midair as it was aimed at Kate. Jared withdrew his fist, “Please. Don’t hurt her. You can let her out and I‘ll go with you.” _I was supposed to protect her. I promised I'd protect her. I was warned and I didn't listen._ He was crushed by the thought.

 

The Player smiled cruelly, “Why would I do tha’? Ya both gan with me.”

 

“You can’t drive the car and keep us at gunpoint and you can’t get out to open the door and keep it aimed.”

 

His heart raced as he saw Kate move but the gun didn’t fire. He registered the cold blade across his neck before he saw the knife. Laing moved his arm to point the pistol at him.

 

She spoke harshly, “For fuck’s sake quit dawdling and get him tied up before anyone sees us.” Jared looked into the stone cold face and saw Emma.

 

***

 

They weren’t at the hospital. Cams showed them leaving the building at 10:50. They were smiling and Jared was hugging Kate. A cabbie reported seeing a couple who resembled them, they had offered their cab to a lady with children, but he couldn’t be sure it was them.

 

Chad pulled the profiler in as soon as the fingerprints were discovered but she’d had little time to study Kate’s background or records. They’d spoken to Doc Carver and the information they did have, combined with his experience, was grim.

 

“Until she was six she was in an environment where violence was an accepted way of dealing with conflict. She watched her family die that way at a young age, goodness knows how many other acts of violence she witnessed. Then she was wrenched away from everything she knew, forced to become someone else, sent alone to a strange country and grew up without any sort of family environment. She was a straight A student because she didn’t have friends and didn’t have a social life. It’s on record that she was bullied. She left school and voluntarily became someone else again. She was a psychosis waiting to happen, even before she met the Painters and all the evidence we have of that encounter, well ...” The profiler sounded apologetic. “Detective Ackles, there’s something else you should know, it’s probable she killed James and Emma Painter but right now she may believe she _is_ Emma Painter. It fits with the character changes which were witnessed at Glenview.”

 

Of course Jensen knew she'd killed Jake Abel. He may not have seen it but he'd been there, he heard the commentary, he knew the details and he had denied it, denied her. _Three cards._

 

He put the last piece together himself, “and if she believes she is Emma Painter then there’s every possibility she’s working _with_ Laing. Shit! Fuck!”

 

“If she is, there’s a significant shift in Laing’s behavior and I’m working on that but I’m not sure we have enough time. Kate may believe she’s Emma, but she will have Kate’s instincts and even some of her memories. She doesn’t have Emma’s past so she has to rely on her own. It’s the best I’ve got Detective. I’m sorry.”

 

Jensen needed a drink. He needed it with ever fiber of his burning body. He rubbed his sweaty, shaking palms on his trousers and bit his lip. He wanted to cry, but he was a cop and here he was in a strange building, in a strange town with his badge and a job to do. 

 

He drew a large trembling breath and placed his mobile on the table. He schooled his features into the best assimilation of a business-like expression that he could muster. There was only one person who could have got that close to Jared so quickly, who knew about Baltimore, the pay-as-you-go and would know the most convincing text to send. If Jay was still alive then he was with a Kate who believed she was Emma and they knew nothing about Kate. They needed to know more and these people, in this building, were the best link he had to her.

 

He sipped his water and gripped his cane, tapping it on the floor. Christ he needed the water to be Jack Daniels right now. “I don’t suppose you have any whiskey, do you?”

 

“I wish dude. No alcohol on site, it dulls the senses, leads to deaths. Now that’s something Kate would tell you.”

 

“...leads to deaths,” he was right, Jensen didn’t need to be responsible for any more deaths and not Jared’s, especially not Jared’s. _Get a grip and think, Ackles_. Where would she go?

 

“Tell me about Kate.”

 

The tall man looked at him and he sat heavily in his seat. “I didn’t know her personally, don’t think anyone really did. She was very private. She would have a laugh on site but when it came time to go home she didn’t stop and chat. I couldn’t even tell you if she had a boyfriend,” he sat back and rubbed his nose. “Hell she could have been, married with ten cats, I don’t know.” He glanced toward round-man “How ‘bout you?”

 

“She said she’d never date anyone at work but that’s all I know.”

 

Jensen slumped a little and rubbed his hands through his hair. It was pointless, Jared was dead, Kate was lost and he may as well have pointed the gun and pulled the trigger.

 

“Has something happened?” Tall-man, leaned forward, “We’ll get you a coffee, he nodded toward round-man.”

 

“She’s disappeared, we think it could have something to do with her original memory loss. She was injured, someone attacked her.” the man nodded understandingly and Jensen continued, his voice sandpaper, “My boyfriend is with her. They’re both gone. They were at the hospital and now they’re just…not.” It wasn't professional to talk like this but he needed to talk to somebody, he needed to say it aloud and this man seemed dependable enough

 

“So, we should tell you everything we know.” Tall-man seemed to sense what Jensen needed, he adopted a business-like voice of his own. “You want to know about enemies and threats? She had a few run-ins in her time, par for the course in this trade.”

 

Jensen sat up straight, _get a grip_ , as round-man placed a hot mug of coffee in his hand. “I put sugar in, figured you need it.”

 

He blew steam from the top and sipped, grimacing at the sweetness but appreciating it’s energy boost. “Just start from the beginning, everything you know. Can I put you on loud speaker to our Texas office?”

 

“Sure.” Tall-man stared into a corner, gathering his thoughts, “First time we met I thought I’d made a big mistake. We had serious issues with some dangerous chemicals and dusts. We thought it would break us financially to do it right so we took a short-cut, got caught by the authorities. Hell of a fuss, almost shut us down. One of the enforcement guys gave us Kate’s card. He said she may be able to find ways that wouldn’t put anyone at risk or get us into trouble. Told us if we were serious about not going under we’d tow the line with her. Her fees…” he whistled “She was absolutely a last resort. We had to send all our paperwork in advance.

 

“First day she showed up, this tiny lady, perfect hair, shiny car, designer suit with safety boots and helmet. Everyone was there and we showed her the site and she poked her head into every corner, yet said _nothing_. She sat at a table with us and asked us to tell her everything that we’d done and she still said nothing, just a couple of short questions. I thought, well she’s a flake. Then when we’d all finished she got up, asked to borrow our whiteboard, summarized everything we’d told her and I mean everything, drew a diagram on the board, outlined a totally different way of looking at our problems and proposed a solution that wouldn‘t bankrupt us. Bam! She got us through.

 

“Turned out it was the way she approaches everything. Listens, gathers all the information, works it out in her freaky head before speaking. It wasn’t without complications, there’s very few of us used to working with the discipline her methods require. She walks a grey line between the legal guidelines and disaster. Her worst nightmare would be someone getting hurt on her watch, so she doesn’t let you fall off that tightrope. Been a few times I’ve see the men go up against her, full on threats, big guys too. She doesn’t flinch. Not a twitch. She doesn’t shout, if anything she gets quieter and when she‘s like that she’s somehow full-on scary. There’s wild rumors that she‘s got mob connections and a few more that she‘s just unhinged, but as far as I can tell she cultivates those to make her act work better. It’s tough for a woman to get respect in this environment. When she looks like you could blow her away with an office fan, it’s gotta be even tougher. If she’s really pissed or frustrated she has this habit of fiddling with the work knife on her belt, she pops the fastener which has an incredibly intimidating effect on some of the guys.”

 

“Has she ever hurt anyone to your knowledge?”

 

“God no! The opposite, she’s like a mother hen. Her job is safety and she fights for it, that’s what causes the conflict. She’ll have them use their protective equipment whether they want it or not. She's dedicated to her profession and I’ve always had the impression she genuinely cares.

 

“There was one guy, figured himself a bit of a mobster and told his foreman to cut corners behind her back. She found out, he tried to sack the foreman and she got between them and refused to allow it, said she’d throw the entire firm off site if he did. They got into words and he said he’d bury her in concrete shoes. I remember her pulling herself to full 5’2” height, looking him in the eye and saying if she killed him first she knew a lot of fantastic places to hide a body and she played with that damn knife the entire time,” he paused and allowed himself a slight chuckle. “Wasn’t the last time I heard that threat neither. Thing is, her job, she has to know every inch of every site she works, every room, cupboard, duct and ceiling void, she knows every building material and every pipe. It’s what she actually uses that stupid knife for - she digs it into walls to quickly confirm if they’re brick, wood, plasterboard or something other. The threat was always believable but she never did anything to anyone.” He stopped and sipped at his own coffee. They all fell into a silence.

 

 _Despite her childhood Kate had turned out well. She was doing just fine_ , Jensen thought, _she would have been fine if I’d managed to catch The Player. Everything that she had done and become was the direct result of his own failure._ He could hear a radio playing rap music and a tradesman singing tunelessly along. There was hammering and the distant whine of a saw.

 

The profiler spoke first, over the speaker-phone, “What was her relationship with Jake and Emma.”

 

Tall-man looked confused, round man launched into an explanation, “Jake liked Kate, thought she was pretty. She told him why she did stuff and he respected that, thought the way she was so assertive was dead sexy too. He liked Emma, the sandwich lady, but I think that was just looks. If you saw the two together they looked similar but they were so different. Emma was quiet and scruffy and had no confidence, Kate was the opposite. You couldn't mistake them, they talked and moved differently. Like day and night, the same things are there but they don't appear the same,” he said philosophically.

 

“Did you ever meet James Painter, her husband?”

 

“Oh, if he was the man that drove the van, boy he was a moody one. He hated Jake looking at Emma, man, if looks could kill but you know what? He checked out Kate every single time. Couldn’t leer more if he tried. Go figure.”

 

They fell into silence again, “That’s um really all I know. Can I get back to work now?” said round-man.

 

“Yeah. Sure. Thanks,” said Jensen.

 

“You’ve been helpful,” added the profiler. “I’m going to go work with this now. If you get any more, let me know,” she hung up.

 

Jensen shook his head and drummed his fingers against the table. None of it told him where Jared was. He needed to think. He glanced at his bag with the case file in. “Have you got a desk? Can I use an office?” he asked. It was out of the ordinary, utterly unethical, but it was all he had.

 

“We have plenty. Follow me, pick one,” Jensen made to gather his bag but in that moment his mind changed up a gear and he remembered Caitlin's other drawing. “Hang on,” he said and delved into his document holder. He spread the page out on the desk triumphantly, a drawing with the title, ‘House of Broken Souls’. “This. Would this be what’s left of the Roosevelt Asylum?” He had a hunch. This place fit.

 

Tall-Man squinted at it, “Seems so. Why?”

 

Jensen felt the adrenalin rise in him and his pulse raced, “I need directions.”

 

“Local PD would locate it quickly.”

 

Jensen hesitated. He examined the drawing again. “According to this, it’s all underground and there’s only one way in or out, is that how you see it?”

 

Tall -man nodded his affirmation.

 

“Generally, how accurate are Kate’s drawings?”

 

“A hundred percent, always.”

 

His hopes slumped. If Jared were still alive he would be dead the moment a SWAT team tried to enter. Jensen understood what Emma and Laing wanted, he could walk in and either everyone would live or they would die together. If they lived, there might be a way to get Kate, Caitlin or even Jane, back long enough to overpower Laing.

 

“Can you give me directions?”

 

Tall-man stood back and assessed him carefully, “Your boyfriend huh?” he noisily sucked in a breath, “I have a car. This will help Kate, yes?”

 

“I hope so.”

 

***

 

There was a basic wire fence around the site, a messy field with piles of brick and tiles strewn carelessly about. The footprint of the old asylum was evident in the muddied concrete remains. Jensen told Tall-Man to stay outside the perimeter, whatever occurred. He gave him Chad’s number and told him to ring it as soon as he was out of sight.

 

It took him a few minutes to locate the entrance, freshly unsealed with the lock recently broken. Jensen took a deep breath. He switched on his torch, lifted the heavy metal cover and climbed in. He had business to finish.


	43. Chapter 43

Jared's first sensation was the smell, the dank, honeyed, foulness of a rotten cellar with the acrid tones of cheap nicotine. It was damp and chill and he was dizzy even with his eyelids shut. He decided not to open them yet. His feet were uncovered and cold on a sharp sandy surface. There was pressure on his wrists and ankles and something prickled and chafed at them. He thought he might be tied to a chair. His left arm ached with two bright dots of pain near his shoulder. The edges of his mouth were sore and wet drool coated them. His tongue was dry with rough fabric taut across it. His stomach growled, it felt empty and nauseous. His hair clung to his head in wet knots. Somewhere close by there was a steady drip as fluid dispersed on the ground and there were sounds of deliberately hushed movement about him, the crunch of feet on the rough floor and the faint rustle of clothing. He tried to recall where he was but he couldn’t think straight. Jared wondered if he could drift back to sleep and this would all be an unpleasant nightmare.

 

Before the architect could consider the option of returning to unconsciousness, warm fingers firmly grasped his left foot . There was a sudden, blinding hot shard of pain as a spike was jammed mercilessly between the nail and the flesh of his toe. He jerked backward but found himself restrained. He tried to scream but a pitiful, muffled moan was all he could manage. His eyes flew wide open to a shocking bright white light and filled with tears.

 

“Tol’ yo he’s awake,” Laing crowed.

 

“I’d forgotten how much fun this is,” Emma spoke as she dropped Jared’s foot back to the floor and wiped the blood on her pants.

 

Jared grunted, trying to speak. Laing moved behind him “Ya wan’ me t’ take this aht?” fingers settled on the knot at the back of his head.

 

“You want that, you have to play nice, Jay,” Emma was bending at eye level.

 

Jared nodded frantically.

 

“Real nice,” droned Laing as his fingers trailed to the back of the architect's neck and under his shirt-collar.

 

Fingernails scraped a pathway on his skin but the movement was slow and deliberate, a harsh caress, “He’s perty Em, a real prince. ”

 

Emma trailed her own hands down his neck and rested them on the top button. His eyes widened as she nimbly unhooked it and moved to the next. The chair shook as he tried to jerk himself away but he just earned himself a harsh stinging slap on his cheek. Strong fingers twisted in the hair at the nape of his neck and wrenched his head back, leaving his neck exposed. He heard the click and fizz of a lighter, saw a red glow and heard the sucking breath of a cigarette being lit. The rough fingers tangled into his hair to restrain him as the circle of dry heat sizzled into the soft flesh under his ear. He screamed into the gag and another tear rolled down his cheek but anger flared in the hazel cat-eyes.

 

Laing pulled tufts of hair out by the roots as he removed his hand. He took the cigarette from Emma and put it to his own lips, inhaling a long drag. “It’s no fun wit’ one, we should wait fur De-tec-tive Ackles.” He passed the cigarette to Emma who sucked on it and blew a steady stream of bitter smoke into Jared’s face. They passed it between them until there was nothing but a stub left. Emma giggled and with a deft flick stubbed it out on the back of Jared’s hand, leaving a crimson disc of pain. She resumed the slow descent of her fingers, button by button then pushed his shirt wide open, as far back on his shoulders as his tied form would allow. She hmmmed appreciatively and let her hands roam over his chest, flicking lightly over his nipples. He squirmed and Laing’s heavy hand stung hard against his face. “Time t’learn the rules, Boy.”

 

Emma traced her fingers up to his face, eased the gag out of his mouth and placed her hand over his lips as the cloth fell with a wet plop to his chin. “No screaming,” she said, “You won’t like what happens if you scream.”

 

Jared glared defiantly at them but he held his tongue. He wouldn’t fight pointless battles, he had to wait for an opportunity. His spirits were secretly raised by the mention of Jensen. They were expecting his boyfriend, his green-eyed detective and if Jensen knew where to find him, the full force of the FBI and police would follow. He had to stay alert and keep his captors calm. Whatever they did to him, they wanted him alive for now. He could co-operate, he had to.

 

Laing proffered the cup of water and Emma put it to his lips. “The drugs make you thirsty don’t they? Feel sick and dizzy?” He leaned his head forward to take a sip and she drew it back and threw it in his face. “Made me feel like shit, forced me out. You still stuck ‘em in me, stood by while the nurses fed them to me.”

 

He remembered now, needles full of Caitlin's sedative, stabbed brutally into his arm while the knife was held to his throat, the gun at his head. He wasn’t sure if they’d given him one or two. It wasn't significant, he was here and there was no escape from his predicament. “The drugs made me sleep Emma. How could they have forced you anywhere?"

 

She looked puzzled for a moment, Laing reached across and this time the hand was in a fist. It was a jarring blow that whipped his head to the side with bruising pain. For the first time Jared wondered what Laing knew about Kate. Did he really think this was Emma? Or was he playing a cruel game with her? Did Jensen get it wrong and this was the real Emma? _They forced me out._ No. This was his Caitlin and there was hope yet of getting her back. “Is this the game you played before, with Jensen? Is that what you’re doing with me?” He steeled himself for another blow but Laing observed him coolly and picked at his nails with the tip of a small dagger.

 

“Didna work aht , techno - ology is a fine thing Jay-red but it don’t always work aht. This time I git to watch Em here at work. She‘s the finest of em all.”

 

“So what about your husband Emma, does he get to join in? Where is he?” he twisted his head to look at her.

 

“He joined in too much last time. Really was obsessed with the little bitch. Had to go.” She flicked her eyes upward in an expression of disdain.

 

There was an echoing clang and, before he could shout out, Jared felt the gag being forced back into his mouth and the cold blade of Emma’s knife squeezed against his Adam’s apple. She pressed the tip harder than necessary and he made a faint hiss as it made a shallow cut in his skin. A slow trickle of blood slid, wet and warm, toward his chest.

 

***

 

The hatch clanged shut with an air of finality. Inside was black as space and the steps were slippery with algae. The smell of mold and damp assailed him and he fought the memories of a similar smell, in a similar place, almost a year before. Jensen struggled to keep his footing, relying on his cane for support while gripping the flashlight with its slim arc of light. His leg shook with the strain of staying upright on the troublesome stairs and his back ached with complaint. He could discern bright white light filtering from somewhere ahead and to the right. He pictured the drawing in his mind. It looked like they were in the old nurse’s station, the widest and deepest area of the basement. He stumbled on a loose stone as he reached the final stair. It ricocheted and hit the wall with a dull echo. There’s nothing like announcing his arrival, he thought. The detective stopped, checked his clip and slid it back into his gun. It was a comforting but unnecessary gesture.

 

“C’mon in De-tect-tive Ackles, ya boyfran’ is waitin’ on yo.”

 

“Predictable but quick, Detective Ackles. You should put down your gun. I have a very pretty knife. Right now it’s embedded in your lover’s neck. Now I can ease up the pressure and he lives to see you die, or I can press a bit harder and you can watch him choke on his own blood. What do you say Detective?”

 

Jensen pressed his back against the wall and sidled up to the entrance. He peeked his head around the corner of the wide and solid wall. It was as expected, there could be no clear aim until he was visible. He might be able to get off a shot and one of them would die but he wouldn’t save Jay. He closed his eyes and braced himself. He called out, delaying the moment, “What do you want from us?”

 

“Aw. We jus’ wanna play, Det-ec-tive. Call it a rematch.”

 

“You can’t win. There’ll be a SWAT team here in minutes and there’s no way out.”

 

“You’re lying, if you had back up you wouldn’t be here. They wouldn’t let you. You came on your own Jensen,” Emma spoke coldly.

 

“An’ we got a way aht, always a way aht, ain’t that right Em?”

 

There was a long pause. _She knows something he doesn’t_ thought Jensen.

 

“What you really want is to finish this with me. If I drop my weapon and come in, will you let Jared go?”

 

There was no answer to that, just a muffled thump, a sudden high pitched moan, whimpering and heavy breathing. There were peals of laughter from Emma with a choked chuckle from Laing .

 

“What did you do? What the fuck did you do?”

 

“I think Karl nailed him. Shall we see what other noises he can make or will you be coming in?”

 

Bile rose unbidden in the back of his throat and he clenched his fist around his stick. Images of Tom flashed, clear and unforgotten, face contorted in blazing agony, hand outstretched, with fingers splayed and nailed tight to the wooden surface of a bench. He let himself vomit, there by the wall. It saved doing it later.

 

“Aw now Ackles, yous gettin’ soft. We ain’t hardly started.”

 

“Then what’s the benefit of coming in?”

 

“Ya get to take some o’ yo boyfran’s pain for him. Mebbe he can jus’ watch.”

 

There wasn’t a choice, there was never a choice. He stepped out of the dark into the blinding light, he dropped his gun on the floor and raised his right hand leaving the other on his cane. Laing shuffled toward him, with a twisted, evil grin, snapping a piece of rope in his hand. His heavy boots scraped on the rough surface. He lifted one foot and kicked the cane firmly away from the detective and, as Jensen struggled to keep his balance, he raised it again and kicked hard against his right shin. Jensen fell to the ground. “Well, ain’t it nice to see ole frans,” he said, tipping his head to observe the detective. Laing raised his foot once more and swung a deep blow into the detective’s stomach. Jensen doubled up and The Player crouched, victorious beside him.

 

Jared squeaked and struggled against his binding and Emma raised another thin line of blood, a surface scratch with the sting of an extended paper cut. He stilled, his eyes fixed on his boyfriend, glassy with tears.

 

Laing was good at knots. He’d had the opportunity to perfect them. He dragged Jensen over to a sturdy wooden chair opposite Jared, by his tied wrists. His ankles were hobbled together. Jensen didn’t complain or shout as Laing used a long length of rope to wrap him firmly to the solid piece of furniture. He wanted to remain ungagged. He needed to take an opportunity to speak if it looked like Emma was wavering. He locked his gaze on the big-hearted brunette tied to the chair opposite him trying to give some silent reassurance. He took in Jared's bare torso, the bruising, the burns and the blood. “I love you. I’m so sorry,” he choked out quietly.

 

“Aw, ain’t that sweet. Mebbe we should let t’lad have his say afore we start.” He loosened the rag in Jared’s mouth. Jared took a short moment to consider his words. He blinked at Jensen then let his eyes fix on Emma’s. “You have to remember,” he paused “I’d never hurt you,” he switched his gaze back to Jensen and smiled sadly but fondly, “I love you.” Emma shivered and stared into empty space until Laing roused her. She flexed her hand, staring down at the inked J2 figures on the back of it. She turned it over and her palm and wrist were covered in small neat writing. Over and again. _Remember._

 

“Which one of yo is goin' ta start then. Don’ be shy,” Laing thumbed through a deck of cards, shuffling them expertly. The sound tore through Jensen like a physical pain and he flinched.

 

“I will.” They spoke together. Emma looked between them and smirked, “We should let the detective catch up.”

 

“I don’t want a card,” Jensen spoke up. If his voice trembled, only he sensed it. “I’m playing this game too. If I do this, I want something else.”

 

“Them’s not yo rules, boy.”

 

“You’ll enjoy it.”

 

Laing’s interest was peaked and Emma was leaning in to listen. “You answer a question about the game. You get to tell us about it. We can't tell because neither of us is getting out alive. We play the game right and we get to satisfy our curiosity before we die.” Jensen did his best to look nonchalant about Laing’s answer.

 

Laing beckoned Emma and they huddled in a corner whispering. Emma came back first. “If Ackles completes a task, he asks me something. If Jared completes a task, Karl will answer. One question and you don’t get to argue with our answers. You don’t speak otherwise, unless you’re given permission. Is that clear?” Both of them affirmed with a nod.

 

Emma crouched in front of Jensen. She looked him in the face. “We’ll get started then. Something simple. You make a noise, you lose.” She rose and went to stand by a sturdy old workbench at the far side of the space. There was a jumble of items on it and she picked several up, turning them slowly in her hand, angling them so Jensen could see clearly. Pliers, nails, a hammer, a scalpel, a cattle prod, her fingers fondled the head of a hammer as she weighed it in her palm. “This,” she hovered over him. “Pick a finger Detective, stretch it out, curl the rest away. Would you like some help?” she showed him a smooth off-cut of wood. He opened his mouth and let her place it between his teeth. He locked eyes with her, making his fury at the situation evident. The hammer came down with a sickening crunch and tears spilled from the green-gold eyes. He bit down, his teeth leaving deep grooves in the wood. He didn’t cry out, not a sound. Laing watched from a seat in the far recess of the space. He reached to his crotch and palmed himself through his pants. Emma flushed with excitement and snatched the wood from his mouth. “Very good,” she praised. “Question time.”

 

“Did your husband, James Painter, make the pattern of knife marks on your body?” She looked at Jensen blankly, “I don’t have any...” her voice faded as her right hand unconsciously reached to her left shoulder and began to trace a design.

 

“Agin,” Laing gestured for Emma to continue with Jensen.

 

Once more she considered the assortment of tools slowly, finally picking a pair of scissors and a long thin nail. She bounced the hammer in her hand and approached him. She pulled his tee-shirt and hoodie away from his body and sliced roughly with scissors until they fell off his torso in strips. She massaged her hands over his chest, dug her fingers viciously into the indent of his hips and down his treasure trail. She giggled as she unbuckled his belt. “Just teasing,” she said as she dropped the buckle back onto his lap. “Same rules,” she added and shoved the wood back in his mouth. She sank to the floor and removed his shoes and socks.

 

He curled his toes away from her hand, fear and anticipation coursing through him. He caught a whimper before it emerged and bit down harder. His jaw ached with the effort. She brushed his toes lightly, tickling them, drawing out the inevitable. He almost didn’t expect it when the lengthy nail was driven with the force of the hammer, into the soft arch of his foot. The world blurred and span, he ground his teeth so hard he felt enamel crumble as a tooth chipped. He stayed silent. “Now, put your foot back on the floor and keep it there.” He winced and fresh tears flowed as the pain was renewed.

 

Laing undid his fly and put his hand inside to pull on his swollen cock. He licked his lips and masturbated crudely, showing off to his prisoners. Emma frowned and her hand pressed hard against her forehead. She was getting a headache.

 

Jensen asked his next question, “How did Kate get free?”

 

Emma answered without delay, “There was a sharp piece of metal in the wall. She used it to cut the rope on her wrists.”

 

Laing reacted to this news, “The bitch got loose. Ya neveh tole me.”

 

Emma spoke soothingly, “Your genius netcam wasn’t working. It’s okay. She did me a favor. She killed James.”

 

“Ya tole me, tha’ was yo.”

 

 

“I just said he got too friendly and had to go. S’okay. Your turn. I think you need to get some relief for that.” She nodded to his purpling and swollen cock that he fisted without shame. Emma leaned against the bench, wincing with pain and rubbing at her temples with one hand while the other continued tracing patterns on her body. Her eyes closed as her breath quickened.

 

 

Laing stood in front of Jared, he twisted his face into an evil parody of a smile. “Your turn perty boy,” he pushed down his trousers and continued fisting his cock. He put his hand on the back of the brunette’s neck and pushed Jared's face down onto it. “Suck. Yo bite, yo lose, yo spit, ya lose.” Jared cleared his mind and took a deep breath. He‘d done this hundreds of times with complete strangers, why should this be any different? It was though. If he didn’t do it then it would be forced on Jensen with no benefit, no question, and he understood the detective’s logic. He wondered why there was no police rescue and if Jensen had really come here alone. He opened his mouth and swallowed the thick length, breathing shallowly as the smell of rancid sweat reached his nose. He gagged as it was rammed hard to the back of his throat.

 

***

 

_Kate floats in the everlasting blue. She needs to reach Emma. Emma is laughing, cold and deranged. She’s been laughing for too long and Kate needs to silence her. She concentrates but her arms and legs can’t move through the formless blue. Emma stays out of her reach taunting her with the sound. Kate hears a word and repeats it. ‘Remember‘. She traces in the air and a familiar pattern of smooth red lines appear. She remembers. ‘Riordan’. The lines expand and become form, a sturdy scaffold frame. She steps on the first pole and climbs to the second. She passes over a platform and continues to weave the same familiar pattern until she’s there. She taps Emma on the shoulder and Emma turns in surprise to gaze at her mirror image. “You’re dead. Time to go,” Kate says and dismisses her with a flick of her wrist._

 

***

 

“No!” Jensen saw Emma’s eyes fly open, wide and shocked. Her fingers felt the knife on her belt and she nervously flicked at the pop fastener. Laing and Jared jumped in surprise, Laing withdrew his foul dick entirely from the architect’s mouth to look over at her.

 

“I want you,” Emma beckoned Laing. She sucked her finger into her mouth and looked her accomplice with a sultry expression. “I’m so horny right now,” she said, and took her wet fingers from her mouth to trail them to her breasts. She took Laing’s hand and pulled him toward her. “Leave him for now. He can clean up.” She led him to a chair, sat him down and straddled his lap, leaning in to suck on his neck. She hmmed. Laing pulled her close, his hands fumbled with her shirt, tugging it over her head, ripping the material. His hands were held aloft, above them as it finally broke loose and he lost balance with it still in his hands. “Say my name,” mumbled Emma.

 

“Em, Emma, Christ, yes!”

 

“Wrong! Dumb fuck!” She pointed to the next room. "Emma's in there." There was a glint as she raised her arm and light reflected from her finely made knife. She gave no time for anyone to react before she sliced the sharp steel, vicious, deep, clean and even into Laing's neck and through his jugular. _It really is a good weight,_ she thought. “My name is Katherine Elise Riordan, and you lose,” she hissed, "The thing about techno-ology Mr. Laing, is that it doesn't work if somebody chooses to switch it off, while they dispose of your friends." The Player gurgled as his blood sprayed in a fountain, coating every surface within it’s arc. Katherine Elise Riordan didn’t flinch as the warm fluid splattered her face in a bad parody of a horror movie. She watched with mild interest as the life drained from the killer and the terror in his eyes faded into a blank stare.

 

Thick crimson gore dripped from the tip of her blade. “That's better,” she said, and turned to Jensen.


	44. Chapter 44

Colored lights blinked lazily on police cars scattered about the perimeter of the old asylum. A rush of cold wind accompanied the steady whooshing of rotor blades as a helicopter descended.

 

Chad dragged his hand through his hair and over his eyes, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. A man in a fluorescent orange jacket approached him warily. “Detective Murray?”

 

“Did you find it?”

 

“I’m sorry. According to our records the duct remained open. We’ve found what should be the entry but it appears to have been sealed in.”

 

“Can you unseal it?”

 

“It’s been filled with concrete.”

 

“Like rubble? Can it be dug out?”

 

“No, you’re misunderstanding me. Someone has pumped it full of wet concrete and let it set. It’s no longer viable to use at all.”

 

“So the drawing we have is accurate then?”

 

“As far as we can tell.”

 

“Goddammit. Why in hell would they seal themselves in without an exit? They must have known we would come.”

 

Doc Carver arrived at his side, windswept and out of breath. “I suspect Laing and Emma don’t know there isn’t an exit and don‘t know we’re here.

 

“Plain English please, Doc.”

 

“It’s likely Kate filled the duct after she killed Emma and James. I‘m guessing it’s where you’ll find the bodies. If Kate is still somewhere in that complicated mind, she isn’t expecting to get out. She wants Laing and her Emma to die.”

 

“I said plain English.”

 

“Is suicide by Cop, plain enough for you?”

 

“Shit!”

 

He turned back to the man in the orange jacket, “Is it likely they know we’re here? How easy is it to see or hear in there?”

 

“It’s a basement, there are no windows. Ceilings are solid. It’s soundproof. It was an asylum, it’s underground,” the man spoke with just a hint of sarcasm and Chad overlooked it. He had larger concerns.

 

“How long?” He barked at a young cop manning the radio, who leaned on the car behind him. “Three hours and four minutes. Sir.”

 

“They told me Jensen asked you to wait four hours?” The doc queried.

 

“He left a message, told us there was no sight-line for SWAT. He was right. He thinks he can reach Kate. What do you think?”

 

Ben Carver looked at the horizon and back at the Texas detective. “Honestly, Detective Murray? I‘m not sure if reaching Kate is going to make things any better.”

 

“How do you mean?”

 

“It’s likely Kate is well aware of the times she’s killed and maimed. The last time Caitlin was in session with me, she expressed some fairly ugly anger at Jensen which she was unable to explain.”

 

“Why would she be angry with Jensen?”

 

Doc Carver rolled his eyes a little, dug his hands into the comfort of his pockets and bounced to keep warm. “As far as you can tell she disappeared at least three days before Jensen, who was the detective in charge of finding Laing. She was carried into Johns Hopkins, covered in blood, the day after Jensen was rescued. In the meantime she was tortured and sexually assaulted. It is likely she watched on HD, big screen, as Tom and Jensen denied she existed, even as she took punishment for them. One of the people she killed was a friend and it was forced on her. She knows she is at least guilty of manslaughter, why else run from the hospital before they could assess her injuries? That, by the way, must have taken some singular fear and determination. She walked back out of Johns Hopkins before she was treated and no-one ever went looking for her, _not in ten months_. No-one rescued her. Jensen was a part of the investigation. Now you tell me why she might be resentful.”

 

Chad closed his eyes slowly and shook his head, “We didn’t know. We just didn’t know.”

 

“I’m not in the business of blame detective, it’s just my professional opinion. Who am I to judge? Kate must have contacted Laing at some point but she hid so deep. It’s my signature on her hospital discharge papers. I sent her back to an unsuspecting Jared.” Worry was etched into Doc Carver’s face as he spoke.

 

Two FBI officers approached Chad. The younger, a blonde lady, flipped her mobile shut and spoke to Chad, “Sir. SWAT are ready to go.”

 

“We give them four hours.”

 

“But Sir...”

 

“Are you formally taking charge?” Detective Murray glared at them.

 

No, but...”

 

“Then we wait.”

 

Doc Carver nodded, “Damned if we do, damned if we don’t, but we should give them a chance.”

 

“Three hours fifteen,” called the young cop by the car.

 

***

Jared gave a short, nervous laugh, “Kate?”

 

Kate continued to Jensen, she crouched by him, turning her knife in her hand with a far away look in her eyes. Her voice was calm and hush-quiet with an edge as cold as the steel of her knife, “Why?”

 

Jensen couldn’t form any words. His eyes were wide with shock, his mouth still forming a gaping ‘O’. He watched as a single drop of blood slid down a strand of her hair and fell to the floor in a crimson teardrop. Blood continued to pool and thicken on the rough floor below Laing.

 

“Umm Kate. You need to untie us now.” Jared smiled at her with false bravado.

 

Kate stood and approached him. She spoke, barely a whisper, by his ear as she reached to retie his gag. “I’m sorry Jay.” He wanted to ask “For what?” but the rough fabric tightened in his mouth and he became mute once more.

 

She didn’t return to Jensen, she adjusted Laing’s body in the chair. She cut the shirt off and tied the body with a coil of rope to prevent it falling to the floor. Kate worked with care and precision, her features relaxed as she became absorbed in her task. The corpse oozed pink as the blade sliced firm and even into it.

 

Jared fixed his eyes on Jensen in a terrified appeal for him to do something, say _anything_ and it was enough. Jensen buried his own fear. If there was a chance to save Jared he would try it all, anything. He wouldn’t lose again, he’d lost enough and Jay had suffered too much. His tongue darted out of his mouth. He licked his lips and cleared his throat. His voice shook as he started but it gained strength and timbre as he continued.

 

He gave her every piece of information starting at the beginning, the psychiatrist and his patient and that first deck of cards. He described every aspect of the investigation, the despair and the camaraderie, the heated arguments, the small discoveries and the mistakes they’d made. He told her about Chad and the Chief, the original profiler and about his Tom. She spared him the barest of glances as she continued weaving the intricate pattern into dead flesh, no indication she was listening or reacting to his tale.

 

Jared wasn’t expecting this. This wasn’t any rescue he’d been anticipating and his own glance at Jensen spoke only of “ _What the fuck dude?_ ” He kept his own silence as he stretched at his ankle ties. His skin chafed and began to bleed as he worked at the rope in an attempt to loosen the knots.

 

Jensen faltered slightly as he described the day he returned to the home he and Tom shared, to find Laing already there. Kate stopped and placed her knife carefully on the aged work bench. She leaned against the worn wooden surface and examined the pattern of gore on her hands. Black inked figures remained, just visible, _J2_ and _remember_. The detective continued, voice cracking in pain as he recalled the day with Laing. He was so focused on his narration he almost missed Kate’s quiet query, “Did you love him very much?”

 

“He was my everything.” He ground his teeth and fought against the tears that spilled from beneath the thick lashes.

 

“Would you have done anything to protect him, even if you had known about us?”

 

“I don’t know, it was an option, we didn’t have,” he found himself unable to lie, “I might have.”  

 

"You wanna' know why I did it, to Jake?" Kate collected her thoughts. “I knew your Tom couldn't. Besides, we'd both been here, in there, for days,” she inclined her head to the next room. “We had the chance to talk about it. We agreed we'd do it, if that was the only way out, we’d do it quick, as painless as we could manage. I didn’t honestly think it would come to that, we knew you were a cop and they were going to come for a cop. You were supposed to be rescued and when you were, you'd let them know, about us and we’d be saved. Life’s a bitch though. Anyway, in the end, it wasn't hard. That was a surprise. Maybe it shouldn't have been. I was born to it, it's in my blood.”  She picked her blade up again and drew one last curved line on the pale carcass. Jensen recognized the pattern to be complete. She stepped back to survey her sick art.

 

“You asked me why?” Jensen raised his voice, aware that time was becoming short. “So I told you why we didn’t rescue you, back then, but I‘m not sure if that was the real question. You want to know why here? Why now? Why stop?”

 

She stepped behind him. She turned the cold steel in one hand while the other rested gently on his skin. “You can’t save me. You can’t even save yourself. You don’t _want_ to save yourself.”

 

Jared shook the chair with effort to escape it and shouted, a desperate noise behind the fabric gag.

 

Jensen spoke in an even tone, battling to keep his trembling from his words. “I thought that. I lived, I didn’t survive. I ran from it, drank the days away and waited to die. I wasn‘t looking at it right. I didn‘t consider all the solutions. Jared made me see more clearly, he does that. He did it for you too. I know he did.”

 

She softly traced her hand in a pattern over his back, down his spine, over his chest and up to his shoulder. Her mahogany eyes fixed on the tall architect and he stilled from his struggles. Somewhere within him he managed to find the strength to see his Caitlin and his eyes were everything she remembered, full of compassion and love.

 

Jensen didn’t let himself pause, “Everything you’ve done so far, in law it’s understandable. There are terms for it, under duress, temporary insanity. No court would consider you for anything other than a hospital order and there is hope of recovery. There is public sympathy. Take this a step further, kill me or kill Jared and you lose that. You think that ending it here will end the suffering? You’ve forgotten Megan, our families, the cops who will have to deal with the crime-scene. Everyone is affected. The risk assessment has to include everyone here Kate. Protect yourself, protect the ones doing the task and protect the public. Keeping people like Jared safe, that’s my job, but it’s yours too Kate Riordan, and you’re a professional. How can you do this to Jared? To JD? Have you even considered JD? You go through all of this and find the person who fits with you, who loves you unconditionally and you‘re just going to throw it away and let him suffer?”

 

“JD loves Caitlin. I’m not Caitlin. It suited me to leave her there awhile. Maybe I gave her a little backbone. Gave me time to watch her, Emma, _you_. See how it was. See Laing and string him along. The fool.”

 

“No, you’re Kate Riordan and you have her strength, but you remember Caitlin.”

 

Kate tipped her head and twirled her knife in her fingers as she considered Jensen’s words. He continued, clutching at the hope it gave him, “Caitlin is a part of you, just like Jane and Emma and it’s not hopeless because it was always that way and before the Painters you made it work. Caitlin deserves to be loved. So do you. It‘s not too late.”

 

“Would you put Jared before everything else? Before me?”

 

He locked his gaze on Jared. This was the man who had rescued him from his own descent into self-destruction, the gentle giant who fitted him. Jared was his world. He didn‘t hesitate, “Yes.”

 

***

 

“Three hours and 47 minutes, Sir.”

 

Chad’s brows met in a frown and his hands fisted at his side. “We go in ten.” He offered an unspoken prayer up to whatever God might be listening.

 

***

 

Kate considered the items on the old wooden bench one more time. She picked up Jensen's gun and stepped behind Jared looking at the detective. She clicked the clip back into the gun and flipped the safety off. Jared flinched at the sound, his eyes opening impossibly wide. She raised her right arm and pointed the pistol at Jensen. Jared twisted, trying to see behind him.

 

“S’okay Baby, she’s not pointing it at you,” Jensen reassured, as calmly as he could muster. Jared breathed out, then tensed again as he understood the implication in that statement.

 

With the other hand Kate reached to Jared’s wrists. She slipped the knife point under the rope binding and sawed upward, then flicked the knife under the head of the nail in his hand and pulled it out, fast and hard before he could register the agony and scream. “You untie your ankles and leave Jay. You don’t look back and you don’t try to stop me, or I shoot your boyfriend.” She tipped her head at Jensen, “Tell him Detective Ackles.”

 

“Leave Jay. Please, just go. We‘ll be fine,” he tried to smirk but it became a sad, lopsided grimace.

 

“Just you and me,” Kate said softly.

 

The last knot came free on Jared’s ankle, he rubbed at it and stood unsteadily. Jensen was shaking his head at him. “ _No heroics_ ,” he mouthed.

 

Jared patted at his pants pocket, his eyes were glistening with tears. “I got him a present. Can I? I want him to have it,” he asked Kate.

 

She nodded. “Don’t do anything stupid,” she firmed both hands on the gun.

 

He took a small silver disc from his pocket and placed it on Jensen’s lap. Jensen looked puzzled. “It’s a St. Christopher medal. It’s to protect you, bring you safely home wherever you travel.”

 

“Home to you, to Madison House?” Jensen asked.

 

“Yeah,” Jared bent down to kiss him short and sweet, on the lips, his damp hair brushing on Jensen’s cheek.

 

“Leave!” warned Kate.

 

“Go Baby. It‘s an order,” confirmed Jensen.

 

There was a faint scrunching sound at the wide opening to the old nurse’s station. They all turned as the old basement suddenly exploded with noise and action. The spotlight shattered into darkness with a pop and the crackle of broken glass. Footsteps echoed and in the spaces beyond, there was shouting and movement. Thin beams of torchlight swept into the space and in the confusion Jared saw Kate turn to Jensen and stretch her arm out, adjusting the gun in her hand. The sharp crack of gunfire echoed heavily as Jared threw himself over her, his huge frame falling to the ground with her.

 

It was all over in minutes. Chad bent to untie Jensen and left Baltimore PD to process the scene. He supported his friend as he insisted on staying by Jared‘s side. Jensen’s green eyes appeared huge and freckles stark against his ghost white complexion. He sat quietly with a blanket wrapped around him watching as the paramedics hooked up an intravenous line for his unconscious boyfriend. He reached out and stroked the brunette hair from his face, “Hang on Baby.”

 

 ***

 

The ward was a bright clinical white and smelled of disinfectant. Jensen curled in the chair at Jared’s bedside, watching him sleep. Misha poked his head around the door and tiptoed in, proffering a mug of thick black coffee. “You should get back to your own bed.”

 

“I’m okay. I want to be here when he wakes up. They said it’s just a flesh wound, no permanent damage. The drugs will be wearing off and he should wake up soon.”

 

“Apparently alpacas hit the floor hard enough to knock themselves out, eh?”

 

Jared forced one bleary eye open, squinted, and managed to croak a short question, “Mish. What the hell is this alpaca thing about?” He shut his eye again and added, “Man, it’s white. Did they bring me to Jensen’s?”

 

Jensen's relief at hearing Jared's voice was overwhelming. Color returned to the freckled cheeks as a smile graced his face, "Jay. Thank God."

 

Misha retreated. “Alpacas. Nothing of the sort Jared. You banged your head. Imagining all sorts of things.” He tapped Jensen on the shoulder as he left. “They found all three bodies. All have their throats cut. Emma and James had the same pattern carved after death. I have to go hook up with Chad. Look after the fluffy llama-type creature for us.”

 

Jared glared as hard as he could but the painkillers gave him effect of a cross-eyed bull dog and Jensen laughed.

 

“Wha‘?” grumped Jared.

 

He shook his head and took Jared’s undamaged hand in his own splinted palm. “Nothing. Just happy to see you dude. I said _no heroics_.”

 

“She wasn’t going to shoot. She put the safety on. I saw her.”

 

“I know, but they saw what she wanted them to see.”

 

“Is she, did they?...” Jared couldn’t bring himself to finish the question.

 

“Kate’s alive. Heavily sedated and on suicide watch but Doc Carver’s gone with her. She’s a tough cookie. She’ll come through it. JD got a flight. He’s there for her.”

 

A nurse came in carrying flowers and a colorful box with ribbons. There was a note on each. The nurse grinned at Jensen and flicked her hair. “There’s some by your bed too.”

 

There was a note on the flowers from Donna Ackles and Beth Farra. Jared peered into the box at an assortment of Gummi bears and candy laces. He turned the card over, ‘Be seeing you soon. Megan xx’

 

Jensen offered him a sip of water and he brightened a little, “Hey! What day is it?”

 

“You haven’t slept that long. It’s Thursday.”

 

“Where’s my turkey?”

 

“What?”

 

“You haven’t forgotten it’s Thanksgiving have you?”

 

“We don’t need a turkey. I’ve got my alpaca and a lot to be thankful for.”

 

“Mmm,” Jared’s eyelids were getting heavy again. “I want you next to me,” he patted the bed as he spoke.

 

Jensen climbed under the covers of the small hospital bed and they fell asleep, tangled together with Jensen‘s head on Jared‘s chest. 


	45. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two Years Later.

Jensen was late. Jared fiddled with the platinum band around his finger and swapped pleasantries with the guests and local dignitaries. His unruly mop of hair had been smoothed to a shine and styled. His suit was cut to his figure, his shirt was understated bright white cotton and his smile matched. He waved at his safety officer through the crowd, but the bitch-face Steve’s wife was pulling warned him away from approaching. Man, the final night of the project had been fun, but they’d all got a little shit-faced. How photographs of Steve, baring his all, in a public fountain, had got on the internet, nobody could quite explain. Steve's wife was unamused and gunning for all of them.

 

A man caught his eye through the chattering crowd. He was eyeing him lustfully, gaze low on the cut of his pants. He strode up to the architect purposefully and spoke in a low growl that only the Jared heard. “First floor. Gents toilets. Five minutes.” 

 

Jared watched the firm ass as he strode away and imagined the body beneath the smart grey Italian suit. He excused himself in three minutes and weaved through guests and waiters with plates of snacks. There was a familiar thrill and he was getting hard, his cock straining at the crotch of his pants. He swung the door of the toilets open and peered in. He felt a firm grip as a hand grabbed his arm and swung him to face the wall. A warm mouth sucked on the back of his neck, hot breath huffing deliciously over sensitive nerve endings as he was crowded against the smooth, clean, painted surface.

 

“You’re so horny. Want me to fuck you right here don’t you?” He heard a zipper being opened and a hard length pressed against his ass, rubbing against him through his pants. A hand snaked around and grabbed at his crotch, caressing it and cupping at his covered balls. Jared groaned and ground his ass back into the touch. He tipped his neck to allow access to the wet-hot lips that laved at his neck and tongued at his ear. “Want me to fuck you hard and fast right here. Want me ride you bareback don’t you?”

 

Jared begged for it, “Mmm. Please, please. Oh yeah.Yeah.”

 

Deft fingers unbuckled his belt and pushed his boxers and pants to his ankles. The cold slide of lube around his puckered hole made him shiver with excitement and he bucked against the long fingers as they pushed into him, working the muscle and opening him wide. Teeth nipped at his ear as blunt pressure forced him open. The burn of the intrusion and the fast slide of hot cock made him whimper with pleasure-pain and the sudden friction against his prostate had him crying out loud. “Fuck yes. There. There. Again, do it again.” He levered his arms against the wall, pressing back as the man ground into him hard, filling him, fast and greedy.

 

Jared took his own cock in his hand and felt it being slapped away. “Didn’t say you could.” He moaned in frustration and two fingers slid into his mouth. He sucked on them, licking and slurping at them. He was panting heavily now and sweat was trickling down the small of his back. The pace became uneven, the thrusts deep and hard, he felt the balls draw up and the splash of hot come inside him. He clenched his muscle around the softening length, holding on to the sensation for as long as he could.

 

The man withdrew and he heard the rustle of tissue, as he was cleaned. The tissue was rolled in a ball and expertly thrown in the trash. Gentle hands gripped his forearms and span him around. He felt the slide of hot lips on his own and a tongue forced between his teeth. They kissed greedily, tongues battling and tangling as buttons loosened and his shirt pushed up. He felt the suction on his lower lip and then the mouth kissed it’s way firmly down his chest, sucking at his nipples, licking at his ribs and his hips and finally sucking the tip of his shaft in, and swirling a worshipping tongue around it and dipping into the slit, licking at the precome. The tongue trailed down his length and around his balls before the sinful pink lips swallowed him down, deep into the throat. Emerald eyes gazed wickedly up at him and he came, shooting his load into that hot and welcoming, wet cavern. “Nngh. Fuck. Oh Christ.”

 

He felt the kitten licks as he was cleaned. His trousers were carefully pulled back and his shirt tucked in.

 

“Sorry I’m late Baby,” Jensen pressed him up against the wall and kissed him, open mouthed, salty and passionate. It felt perfect between them.

 

“I’m married to a Fed, being on time is against the rules. You got here, and it was one heck of a greeting.”

 

Jensen smirked, sheer unholy and pornographic, “Well that’s the informal christening ceremony completed. We should probably get back for the unveiling of the plaque. Wouldn’t do for the architect to miss that.”

 

***

The architect and the detective arrived in the lobby, a little breathless with a pink flush to their cheeks. They dashed past Mackenzie to reach the stage in time. She raised one eyebrow as she knowingly looked them up and down. The Mayor was finishing his speech and Jensen subtly reached over to smooth his husband’s hair before Jared accepted the formal handshake for the press photographers. The curtain was pulled to celebrate the opening of the radical new dementia center, a crowning jewel for the Hospital.

 

Jensen sipped his Appletizer slowly and mingled while Jared was pulled from one press interview to another. Megan and Mackenzie gossiped, plotting ways to tease their brothers, Beth Farra discussed the merits of off shore banking with JD, and Donna and Alan Ackles returned from a tour of the building, oohing and aahing over the design.

 

Jared wandered back to them sipping champagne from a tall flute glass and Jensen wondered for a brief moment when it had become comfortable to be around alcohol. Alan Ackles greeted Jared with a bear hug. “The building is fantastic Jay. When will your own home be ready?”

 

Jensen answered for him, “We should be moving in during the next few weeks Pa. We wanted Jared to get this out of the way first.”

 

JD had moved into their group, “Well you know everyone is waiting for an invite to that California beach house.”

 

“Hey. You’re supposed to be looking after Madison House for me.”

 

“And I will, but it doesn’t mean I can’t have a holiday.”

 

Jared spoke more seriously, “How is Kate? Do you think she’d be given a pass to visit?”

 

“She’s doing good, all things considered. Maybe not yet, but we get out together for short visits. She sends her best wishes. She still thinks sending her love feels awkward in the circumstances. She’s seen the pictures of this place in the architectural magazines and is so impressed. She’s got your drawings of the beach house up on her wall at Glenview, she thinks it‘s inspired. So it’s good and we’re good.” JD smiled and sipped at his drink, “You two go mingle. Everyone wants pictures of you.”

 

They smiled and posed for the press. Jared laughed at their jokes, throwing back his head, neck stretched, mouth in a joyous wide smile and hazel eyes glittering with life. It reminded his husband of the very first time he had seen him, from the window of his new apartment in Madison House. He drank in the sight and thought, _he's mine. S_ ucessful surgery the year before, meant Jensen no longer needed a cane and he stood tall and straight by Jared's side,  He was reserved but proud, his gold-green eyes focused only on his husband, his fingers entwined with the larger hand. Jared caught his eye and smiled at him. It was a blazing grin just for him, the man he loved, the one who had kept him close when he'd only known how to run, the one who completed him.

 

A photographer yelled for them to kiss and they obliged. Jared placed his hands on the older man’s waist and pulled him in close. Jensen clasped his hands behind his husband’s neck and pulled him down for a sweet, loving kiss. Eyes locked, they lost themselves in each other while the cameras flashed and clicked.

 

 

  ~fin~


End file.
